


Times Before

by datfangirlthough



Series: DC Ground Zero [2]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:09:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 58,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datfangirlthough/pseuds/datfangirlthough
Summary: Bruce and Clark have known each other since they were kids. But that was a lot longer ago then anyone knew and the way it happened was practically fate. An epic of how Bruce and Clark became two of the greatest heroes while growing ever close in the face of chaos, magic and the cold grip of the Immortals. (Feel free to read Wargames first though)





	1. A Stranger is a Friend You Haven't Met Yet

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've always had this idea in my mind of Clark and Bruce being extremely long-lived due to: Clark being an alien and Bruce being Bruce. He knows the right people and all that. Anyways, you'll hopefully see what I mean when you read this. I also love the idea of them being friends since young, because their meeting as adults is cool and all but w/e I'm just that person. I hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> P.S. This started as one thing and turned into a WHOLE series. If you like monthly issues of comics, I think you'll enjoy this. When I said "epic" in my summary, I didn't mean cool, I mean looooong. Brace yourself. But I hope you'll think it's worth it!

There was a knocking sound coming from the engine every time Alfred would slow down. _Knock, knock, knock_. Sometimes it would be a little faster when he sped up, but it was almost always there. Bruce was looking out the window at the fields of wheat, seas of brown until the sun hits it in the right spot. When the sun managed to stream down between the clouds it would turn it into a golden ocean outside the car window. Alfred glanced over briefly at the young boy. Bruce had his arms crossed and he was steadfast in making sure he didn’t look at Alfred. He felt awful enough without the lost miserable look on Alfred’s face. When a child is down they look to adults, but when the adult doesn’t know what to do either then it shakes them both. _Knockknockknock_. There was a jarring stop that flung them both forward. Alfred’s right arm flew out to grab the small frame of the boy as he stopped just short of hitting the dash. The car sputtered and then stopped as smoke rolled out from under the hood.

 

Alfred was sweating from the adrenaline that was working through his system, “Bruce, are you okay?” He looked over to see Bruce with ruddy cheeks panting hard. Bruce pursed his lips together and nodded. Alfred nodded, “Good. Good. I’ll take a look, maybe I can fix it. How about you stretch your legs for a bit?” Bruce sat still as Alfred bent down to pop the hood. Alfred ruffled the wavy raven hair of the young boy, “Get some fresh air” he said softly. The older man got out of the car, tugging at his suspenders to pull them back up. Alfred stroked his pencil thin mustache and sighed deeply. He stretched his long legs for a while before heading to the front of the vehicle and lifted the heavy hood. He was confronted with a smoking engine emitting too intense of a heat. He called out, “Can you bring me the bottle of water?”

 

A door opens after a minute, then closes. The smartly dressed boy came out holding a large glass bottle that was half full. He hands it over and stands on tip toe for a better look, “It looks burnt? Can we still drive it?”

“Good chance the answer is no.”

“Why do you need the water?”

“Because my boy, I am simply thirsty.” Alfred wiped the sweat from his forehead. He took a swig and passed it to Bruce who followed suit. Bruce started looking around. The road was paved but not well maintained. The fields on both sides made Bruce feel small. He walked towards the wheat, his hand out. His hand gently touched the stalks, he took a deep breath, then took a step into the field. Alfred called out, “Don’t go into the fields Bruce! If you go in there I’ll never find you again young man!” Bruce harrumphed quietly. He walked a few more paces and yelled back, “I won’t, I’ll come back right now,” knowing full well it was a lie. He kept striding forward, making a mental note to simply head back in a straight line. “Bruce! Bruce! Get back here! This isn’t the time for this!”

“I’m fine Alfred! Just leave me alone!”

“Please, young master. Just come back! We need to stay together! I can’t lose you too!”

That last line was tinged with desperation and Bruce felt it. He felt it too deeply, it was still too raw and fresh. He stopped in his tracks, his chest hurt. He crouched down and watched a line of ants march by his polished shoes. He stood back up and started to head back. He felt the weight in his chest get heavier and heavier. It was too much. He stopped just short of the road and he crouched back down and cried. He cried so hard that he was practically gasping for air. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He heard footsteps approaching and he knew the cadence wasn’t Alfred’s. He looked up but he couldn’t stop the tears or see who it was. The stranger stopped right outside the boundary of the wheat, out of sight. Bruce just kept crying and eventually his weeping died down enough for me to hear it, the soft purr of an engine. Voices. He kept whimpering, but he couldn’t quite stop. He tried to listen a little harder, _Looks completely burnt out… Your son gonna be okay? Not my son, he just lost…_

“Hey” A cheery greeting came through the wall of crops.

Bruce hiccupped a little. “Hay is for horses” Bruce whispered, more to himself than anyone in particular. “Haha, good one.” Came a jovial reply. It was chipper but more than anything it was sincere. Bruce had a moment where he just felt… warm. That moment was brief. His mind, even in grief, was sharp. He stood up and slowly walked towards the source. He parted the wheat to look at the top of the chest of the boy a head taller than him. He looked up and Bruce’s blue eyes met the almost turquoise eyes of this new boy. The new boy smiled broadly, a smile brighter than the sun dancing on the wheat. Bruce wiped his eyes, more to feel how puffy they were than to actually stop any tears.  The new boy took a step back. Bruce frowned a little, “You could hear me,”

 

“Well sure, yer’ weren’t exactly whispering” The new boy’s Midwestern accent was a little heavy. “Except… I was. I literally whispered that. And you heard me.” The new boy looked over his shoulder at the man in his mid-thirties talking to Alfred. He had hair colored like the wheat in the field and a tall broad frame. He shared the new boy’s congenial nature as he helped Alfred take the suitcases out of the car and place it in the back of the baby blue pick-up truck. He looked back at Bruce, “That’s my pa. I think you and me gonna have a sleepover kid.” Bruce shook his head, “I don’t want to.”

 

“I don’t think you got much choice. You uh… You gonna come out of there?” Bruce looked the kid over. He wore a green flannel shirt and blue jeans. He looked the same age as Bruce, but was much bigger. He had long legs and arms that made him look almost lanky, but the small bit of muscle he had made him look bigger and older than he really was. Bruce swallowed hard, fixed his coat a bit, smoothed out his hair, and took a deep breath. He walked out of the wheat but he never broke eye contact. “Alfred! Are we… are we going with these people?” When he finally broke eye contact it was to look at Alfred, not much younger than the boy’s father, as he knelt down in front of him to put his hands on Bruce’s small shoulders. Alfred smiled weakly, “We’re going to stay at their place for a day or two. Just until we can either get a new car or fix this one. These _kind_ people-” he made sure to emphasize the kind with a squeeze of Bruce’s shoulders, “are the Kent’s. This is Johnathan Kent and his son Clark.” Bruce scowled at Alfred, “I don’t like this.” He said softly. Alfred’s eyes welled up a little as he took in Bruce’s face. Red and grim. He nodded and smiled a little, “I know. But we are both in positions where we must do what we can with the help that we have.” He put his hands on Bruce’s face and Bruce closed his eyes. “Get in the truck Bruce. I’m here with you.”

 

The road was a little bumpy and Bruce hated it. He held on to the suitcases that were sliding around him as he rode in the bed of the truck with Clark. He felt himself nearly tumble over when they hit a small pothole and when he sat back up he glanced at Clark who was trying not to laugh. The farm boy slid over to Bruce and sat next to him, stretching his arms out on both sides to rest on the truck. “Lean into me!” He yelled over the noise. Bruce sat down and leaned in a bit. He didn’t trust the boy but he trusted the truck even less. Clark looked down at him, “How come you call your pa by his first name?”

 

“He isn’t my _pa._ ” Bruce practically spat out the word. Clark could take a hint. They rode the rest of the way in silence to the Kent farm. Once they arrived, Johnathan got out first and started hoisting suitcases out of the back, “Son, help these folks get their luggage. Little Bruce here is gonna room with you. Alfred, we’ll make the sofa up for you. It ain’t much but it’s what we got.” Alfred shook his head, “Believe me, this is much more than enough. We appreciate it.” Bruce stood up and helped hand bags to Alfred before trying to pick up one suitcase that was filled with bricks as far as he was concerned. He made an audible “whoof” as he tried to hoist it, and it didn’t even budge. Alfred and Johnathan were walking up to the house with the rest of the luggage and Clark was hustling back from the porch from his first trip. He leaped onto the truck bed and strolled over to the struggling Bruce. Bruce waved him away, “It’s too heavy.”

 

“Don’t worry, I got this.” He hoisted it with ease and jumped off the back of the truck. Bruce watched him intently as he walked to the porch with the suitcase. He came back and held his arms open as if for a hug, “Jump down, I’ll catch you city boy.”

“Don’t call me that. I don’t need you to catch me.” Bruce leapt out of the truck and landed next to Clark. Bruce scowled at him and Clark grinned, “Aint you brave? I like it. Wanna play rock paper scissors for who sleeps on the floor?”

“I’m a guest. Shouldn’t I automatically get it?”

“Nah, not how it works.” Clark put the back of the truck up. He came back, “Or we can arm wrestle.”

“That arm wrestle sounds like a hustle to me.” They started walking towards the house. “So does the rock paper scissors now that I think about it?”

“How is rock paper scissors a hustle?” Bruce put a hand in front of his mouth and whispered as low as he could, so softly it was practically puffs of air, “Because you can hear this and lift heavy things and for all I know you can read minds.” He put his hand down as Clark’s smile disappeared. He began to fidget with his hands, “Don’t… don’t tell anyone okay? And don’t tell my dad that you know. I figured you got it, you’re… quick.” Clark has a pleading look on his face. Bruce looked him over, “You’re weird.”

“I know. But I aint trying to be.” Bruce nodded and kicked the dirt, “No one ever tries to be weird. You just are.” Clark reached out and stopped just short of touching Bruce’s jacket. Bruce turned to see the hand hanging in the air, “What are you doing?”

“You aint hot in that?”

“A little. Why were you going to touch me?”

“I… don’t know. I felt like... I should? Maybe?”

“Will it hurt if you touch me?”

“Not on purpose.” A long pause.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Cause you’re scared of me.” Bruce blushed. He suddenly felt ashamed and weak. He tried to hold back the fresh wave of tears as he squeaked, “I’m scared of everything right now.”

Clark walked over to Bruce and had his hands over the smaller boy’s shoulders. “I’m gonna take yer coat.” He put his hands slowly on the shoulders and Bruce let the coat fall away. Clark looked at him as his father called out, “Son! Hurry it up! It’s getting to be dinner and I’m sure these people need some rest. Let’s go!”

“Okay!” Clark looked at Bruce, “Come in when you’re ready okay? If you need me, you can call me.”  
“How far away could I go before you stop hearing me?”

“I dunno.”

“I’ll come inside I guess.” Bruce caught up with Clark as he opened the door and let the prince of Gotham in before him.


	2. Summertime is always the best of what might be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really more like the second part of chapter 1. So I guess this is 1.5???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience guys! Bear with me! The good stuff starts soon! I broke up chapter 1 into two chapters because it was mad long, so I preferred two smaller slower chapters. From here on out it should pick up though!

Bruce looked around Clark’s bedroom. It was about the size of his shoe closet back in Gotham but it definitely was more than big enough for Clark. It was spacious, with a large window, on the second floor. He had posters of movies and sports teams on his wall that Bruce didn’t recognize. As he was looking around he heard Clark bringing bags into his room and placing them on the floor, “I smell potatoes. I think ma made mashed potatoes and meatloaf. She always makes meatloaf when she makes mashed potatoes.” Bruce harrumphed, “Do you have super smelling too?” He looked at Clark, who wore a serious look on his face. Clark snickered a little, “No, I don’t. I don’t think I do anyways. Can you smell potatoes?”

“Oh… yes I do smell potatoes. Do your parents… have gifts too?” He gestured towards Clark. Clark shook his head, “From the way they react when they see me do things, I’m guessing not.” He ran his hand through his hair, “Um… the bathroom is down the hall. You can take a shower before dinner. I’m sure you probably want to wash up before dinner.” Bruce walked over to one of the suitcases and popped it open. He dug through the clothes before closing the suitcase with a heavy sigh.

 

“What’s wrong?” Clark sat on his bed and watched as Bruce plopped down on the floor. Bruce looked at his hands, then at the boy. He thought hard about all the things rushing through his mind. He thought about his parents, this boy, and how he came to be stuck here. He looked at the farm boy, “I don’t want to take a shower. I don’t want to do anything really. Would you… Can I still sleep in here?” Clark chuckled. He reached over and touched Bruce’s hair as softly as possible, “Of course.” Bruce looked up at the Clark who quickly drew his hand back. Bruce grimaced a little, “Why do you keep touching me?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready to be touched by anyone.”

“Why?”

“I’m… I’m sad. I’m just… I don’t feel good.” Bruce was softly stammering out his answer, unable to quite put into words.

“Are you sick? You need a doctor? Is it that guy you’re with? He do something to you?”

“What? Alfred? No. He’d never. He’s… he has to take care of me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Bruce got up just as there was a knock on the door. It slowly creaked open and Alfred grinned, “Dinner is almost ready young master. Wash up before we eat will you?” Bruce didn’t budge. Alfred took a deep breath, “Please sir. We talked about this. You may not like it any, but you have to… take care of yourself.” Bruce sat motionless for a moment before finally getting up, snatching the first outfit he could grab from a suitcase and marched to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and he could hear Alfred’s voice as he apologized on his behalf. He felt his face get hot when there was a knock on the floor, he threw it open ready for another fight with Alfred about self-care. Instead it was Clark with a towel in his hand. He handed it to him silently and nodded as he closed the door again. Bruce turned on the water and took the hottest shower he could while silently crying.

 

The dinner was quiet but pleasant. The Kents’ were friendly and kind. They asked about Bruce’s interest, were fascinated by his brief stories of horseback riding and flying around. They were intrigued by Alfred’s history in the Royal British Forces before taking on au pair gigs with wealthy families. He explained how he thought it a good way to be a “more laid back bodyguard” to some of the children of the powerful and wealthy. After dinner Alfred offered to help with dishes, and they told Clark to let Bruce get some rest. They retreated upstairs and Clark moved some of the suitcases around to make a walking path for them. “You have a lot of stuff. It must be nice to be rich.”

“It kind of is, I guess.”  Clark threw himself on the bed and grabbed a comic book from the nightstand. The two kept to themselves for about an hour. Clark heard the tears in the shower, but knew better then to bring it up. Bruce stood up, turned off the light and crawled onto the bed with Clark. Clark moved over and sat up, “If you move, I can sleep on the floor.” There was a long pause. “Please don’t”. Clark nodded and laid back down. They were back to back for a while, before Clark rolled over and threw an arm over Bruce. He pulled him in a little and took a deep breath in. “Why do you smell so good?” he whispered. “Cause I’m rich.” The two started to laugh a little, “Rich people smell different?”

“Oh sure. It’s all the money you know. You’re just smelling the hundred dollar bills I keep on me.” They kept laughing, and out of nowhere Bruce’s face fell. “What’s wrong? You’re so… down all the time.” Bruce started to laugh nervously as tears came out of the corners of his eyes, “My parents’ died a month ago.” Clark didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would mean anything to Bruce. He pulled him in and held him, “You’re always touching me.”

“Sorry. I’ve never wanted to be so close to anyone before.” The two drifted to sleep next to each other just like that.

 

The next day Bruce was trekking through a field as fast as he could. His black shirt was getting covered in the bits of grass and hay that were sticking to him. He stopped and yelled, “How about now?!” A red ball flew straight up into the air from where Clark stood, right by the house. Bruce grinned, turned around and he started running as fast as he could. When he was out of breath, he turned around and did it again. The red ball flew up into the air again. He shook his head, “No way.” He did it one more time. “Now?!” he watched the red ball go up in the air and come back down. Bruce laughed, “Come here!” After a couple of minutes, Clark showed up. “Jeez that was fast! That’s wild! So, you’re sure your parents can’t do this?”

“Positive!”

“Why don’t you know everything you can do?”  
“How would I? I’ve always been able to do this kind of stuff. If fish tasted like chicken to me, then how would I know it’s supposed to taste like fish unless someone tells me?” Alfred came outside and sat on the porch. He looked at Martha who came out after him. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as she tossed her head back for a light laugh, “I’ve never seen Clark so excited to have a friend before! I hope they’re okay. I don’t want Bruce to get hurt.”

“Why would he get hurt?” Martha looked startled at that question, then quickly recovered. “Oh well, it’s a farm. People can get hurt on farms. You know how kids can be.” Alfred shook his head, “Believe me. Bruce can take it. He’s strong. He’s just a little raw right now. He’s happy here. I appreciate all your help with all this.”

“It’s no problem. When John gets back we’ll work out what to do about your car. I’m… sorry about his parents.”

“Yeah… it’s… not easy for anyone right now. He needs this.” Martha looked at Alfred. A young man made much older by his responsibilities. She put a hand on his shoulder, “Hun, maybe you guys should… I dunno. Spend some time with us. Its summer right? What’s a kid like him doing for summer break? A week of him just being a kid here won’t hurt nothing.” Alfred looked up at her gratefully, “I couldn’t possibly-” his voice trailed off as Johnathan came up with his truck. He got out and waved. He came up, “Sorry, the supply store was a bit packed. I miss anything?”

“Sure hun. Alfred and his boy are staying with us for a week.” Alfred looked at Martha who promptly headed back inside. He looked at Johnathon, clearly flustered, “I didn’t… we didn’t…” Johnathon laughed, “If she says it, it goes. Happy wife, happy life friend.”

 

The dinner was much improved on the second day. Bruce seemed to warm up almost instantly when he heard the news and Clark’s eyes were practically shining. The two looked at each other and briefly thought to themselves that maybe a week was too brief.

 

It was two years since they had met. Bruce couldn’t make the following year because Alfred had taken him on a trip to Morocco and Clark didn’t have a passport. Clark was riding in the passenger side of his father’s truck as they drove up to the airport. He was tapping his foot quickly, and Johnathon tried not to laugh at his son’s nervous energy. When they finally got to the pickup area, they noticed the much taller, slightly thicker build of Bruce. He wore a powder blue shirt with khaki pants. His hair was slicked back and he was holding one large suitcase. The truck pulled up and Bruce’s eyes went straight to the old vehicle that was still rolling to a stop when Clark flung the door open. He stepped out and Bruce felt like a dwarf. He was still a bit more than a head taller than Bruce, but with far more muscle then before. He grinned and he ran and hugged Bruce. Bruce was wriggling in his arms and when he let him go he playfully complained, “You always want to touch people.”

“Just you.”

“And that makes it better?” Bruce hoisted his suitcase into the bed of the truck before hopping up. Clark joined him, “You got good at getting into the back.”

“I didn’t want to make a fool of myself so I bought one and practiced.”

“That’s shameful.”

“I just wanted to be prepared.”

“For the wild world of Kansas?”

“I hear it’s as savage as Arkansas.”

“You’re the worst. Why couldn’t we just travel somewhere cool? Why’d you have to come _here_?”

“Cause last time I was here, I wasn’t… okay. Now I am. This is a reset. We can travel next year.” The truck took off and Johnathan laughed to himself as he saw the boys talking in the back. He realized that he didn’t even get the chance to say “Hi” to their guest.


	3. Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Clark edge ever closer to each other while growing into who they are meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so finally some concept of time in this. Sorry dialogue isn't super period accurate, but I type this at my hectic ass job and sometimes research falls to the wayside. I tried for a longer chapter because I feel like garbage when I split things into two baby chapters. Enjoy the read!

Bruce searched the shelves in the library for any books about unnatural anatomy. He came across one, Breathing Like a Yogi and skimmed through it. “How long can you hold your breath?”   
“I dunno. Never timed it.”  
“You should. Maybe you don’t need to breathe at all. Do you get hungry?”  
“I’m hungry now. Wanna get a burger? I’m tired of looking at books.” Clark slid his book back onto the shelf, then tilted his head a little. Bruce noticed out of the corner of his eye. He knew that meant that Clark heard something. A boy a bit taller than Clark turned the corner. He looked to be about fourteen and he sported a jersey of the Smallville Sluggers and some black baseball pants. He was lanky and had blond hair and green eyes, with a smattering of freckles on his face. He sneered at Clark, “Lookie here. Didn’t think the Kent weirdo would be here. Reading on how to make friends that don’t suck as much as your pitch?” He laughed cruelly at his own joke, then pushed Clark into the bookcase, then he strode over to Bruce. He sized Bruce up without hiding it, and after deciding he could take him in a fight if necessary he grinned and pulled at Bruce’s collar on his shirt, “You’re not from around here city boy. Who the hell are you?”  
“The kid that’s going to punch you in the throat if you don’t stop touching me.” Bruce’s eyes blazed with passion and his face was serious. The grin on the bully’s face fell, just as Clark was rubbing his arm and stepped in-between the two. “Get lost Francis. Don’t you have anything better to do?”  
“Than putting the local weirdo and his little friend in their place? No.” He shoved Clark as hard he could and he practically toppled on top of Bruce. Bruce felt the wind get knocked out of him as their forms hit the ground and he began to cough, gasping for any air that was willing to slip back into his lungs. Clark groaned as he lifted himself up and Francis put him in a headlock, “Hey Kent, how does a kid your size grow up to be so fucking weak I wonder?” Bruce didn’t think, he just reacted on instincts and some basic self-defense Alfred had taught him. He lifted a leg and kicked Francis in the ribs as hard as he possibly could. 

Francis released his friend and fell on his side just as an older woman with strawberry blond hair came tearing around the corner, “Francis Marcus Smithers, if you don’t leave these boys alone this instant! How many times do we have to talk about this?!” She hoisted Francis to his feet and jabbed a finger in his chest, “You can’t come to my job just to cause trouble you hear me?! You know how hard I had to fight just to get out of that damn house?! Leave the Kent boy and his little friend alone! Or so help me I’ll tell yer’ father and he’ll teach you to listen by welting your hide!” She shoved him away and looked softly at the two on the ground, “Sorry Clark sweetie. You okay? You want me to phone yer’ mama and daddy?” Clark shook his head, “No ma’am. Thanks though.”

She nodded and walked off to snatch up her son and chide him further. Clark popped up and helped Bruce off the ground, “You could’ve taken him in a fight. I know him shoving you didn’t hurt. So why’d you fake it?” Clark’s cheeks turned a little red. He looked down at his feet, “I don’t wanna talk about this here. Let’s go get lunch okay?” At the Burger Barn they sat at a table in the back, away from the curious eyes of the locals who say the “Kent boy” with his obviously city slicker friend. Clark set the tray practically overflowing with food down. Bruce plopped down, “Six burgers and 4 large fries. Three drinks, a milkshake, and an order of Barn Bite chicken nuggets. What am I gonna eat? Where do you put it all?” They laughed as Bruce plucked a burger from the tray. Clark was wolfing down a burger as if he were starving, “I dunno. I’m just so hungry lately. I eat like this all the time, but I try not to do it too much at home. My parents are… worried.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Smallville is a small town.”  
“I hadn’t noticed.”  
“Well small towns like a few things: God, food, music, and sports right? Well I don’t know about the big guy. I suppose he exists, but who can really tell? I mean-”  
“Clark. Focus.”  
“Right. So, food and music isn’t the issue. But sports. Sports are big. Baseball is big. People here still talk about Jackie Robinson and that was two years ago! Well… I wanted to play sports but… I dunno. Something happened.”  
“What?” A long heavy silence as Clark powered through a second burger and took a big gulp of his drink. He sat back for a second clearly deep in thought. Bruce picked at his food, he knew it was better to let someone think these things over. His doctor at Arkham taught him the fine art of patience and processing when Alfred took him there after his parent’s death. Clark finally spoke after a couple of minutes, “You know, every time I learn how to do something new, I can tell instantly if it’s normal or not. Ask me how.”  
“How?”  
“My parents. Their hearts beat faster. Their pupils get bigger. They sweat a little.” He tapped his nose, “But the sweat smells different.”  
“That sounds like…”  
“Fear. It’s fear. It happens to animals on the farm when they know they’re about to die. Exceptin’ the sweat. Most farm animals don’t sweat. Horses do.”  
“Focus.”  
“Right. So… they get scared of me. Their son.” His voice cracked a little but he pushed through. His voice softened, “I picked up a tractor. I didn’t mean to, one of the dogs was barking at something underneath it, I was trying to check it out. I pushed a little on the wheel and I couldn’t see and I pushed a little more and when I saw it I looked up and I had the tractor on two wheels. My pa just… He wasn’t… happy. He yelled at me to drop it and I did cause I was scared.” Bruce just stared. What could he possibly say in this situation? What could he possibly do? He wasn’t sure if he should take his hand or leave him be. He settled for the former. He knew that Clark responded well to physical affection. He placed his hand on his friends and looked him dead in the eye, “How long ago was this?” Clark shrugged. He seemed to do the math in his head, “Maybe five or six months?” Bruce nodded. He squeezed Clark’s hand, “Keep going.”

“I wanted to play baseball. But my pa, he was furious when I brought it up. He told me absolutely not. He screamed at me that I could never play any kind of sport.”  
“He screamed? I can’t imagine your father screaming.”  
“Well… It sounded like screaming to me.”  
“Ah. Right. Then what?”  
“I told him I could learn to be really careful and he just told me that’s not possible. Not now, not at this age. I’m too young and all over the place. He told me to just, act like the other kids for now. Act ‘normal’” Clark started to whimper. He wanted to break down but he didn’t want to give anyone in the restaurant the satisfaction of seeing him do it. Bruce saw that this was a struggle and knew he had to do something. “Hey! Did I tell you that Alfred is teaching me self-defense?”  
Clark smiled weakly and nodded, “You put it in your letters.”  
“Yeah well… uh… there’s other news I didn’t tell you. Like… Oh!” Bruce clapped his hands together, “I know! Gotham University didn’t want to integrate right? There were protests and fires and all of this really crazy stuff was happening. So I decided to do something about it.”  
Clark wiped his face and kept eating but slower than before, “What did you do?”  
Bruce beamed proudly, “I had Alfred help me buy the school! Now it’s a private school and I can let in anyone I want. I have a tutor from the school there. He’s teaching me Latin.”  
“Latin? Wait, you bought a school? What? Why?”  
“Cause no one tells you what to do when you’re rich. And the people needed me.”  
“Not that. Sorry, I should’ve clarified. Why Latin?”  
“Oh. Cause it’s neat. I read in some books that you use Latin to summon demons and mummies. Or even cast spells!”  
“Is that… Is that what you’re going to do with it?”  
“No. Maybe? I don’t know. We’ll see.”  
“Okay. That’s… weird.”  
“I don’t want to hear about weird from you tractor boy.” Bruce nudged Clark and they both laughed. It was the kind of laugh that was almost a sigh of relief from both of them. They finished their meals and started to head back to the house. During the walk Bruce felt the beads of sweat forming on his brow, “Hey Clark! What does my sweat smell like right now?” he poked Clark gently in the ribs and Clark smirked. “You smell like roses.” Bruce shot him an incredulous look, only to be met with a face of pure sincerity.  
“You being funny?”  
“No. You always smelled like roses. Since they day I met you.”  
“That’s weird.”  
“Right? I’ve never smelled anything or anyone that smells as good as you.”  
“Even other roses?”  
“Even other roses.” Clark walked side by side with his best friend for a while. They passed the general store and turned to go down the alleyway for some shade. Clark grabbed Bruce’s arm gently, “Hey Bruce.”  
“Yeah?” Bruce looked at him steadily. Clark turned red and leaned in, giving Bruce a gentle peck on the lips. Bruce practically turned scarlet and turned around quickly, “Let’s get back home okay?”

Once they arrived back at the house after an awkward and quiet trip home (where Clark carried Bruce on his back and ran all four miles without breaking a sweat), they went upstairs to wash up. Clark lounged on the bed, he always let Bruce go first. Bruce grabbed his towel and clothes then looked at Clark. He began to blush, “You stole my first kiss.”  
“I didn’t steal nothin’. You knew it was coming.”  
“I wasn’t prepared. And… we’re both boys. And I wasn’t prepared.” Clark stood up and walked over. “Are you ready?” Silence. Bruce nodded. Clark leaned down, put his hands on his shoulders, and kissed him gently. When he pulled back Bruce stood up tip toe and kissed him again. They looked at each other and Clark hugged his friend close, “I think I love you.”  
“I know you do.”  
“Say it back.”  
“What if I don’t want to?” Clark let him go and looked into his serious face. Bruce readjusted his clothes and headed to the door. He went to the bathroom and started running the water for a shower. He hopped in and basked in the hot water for a bit before whispering, “I love you too idiot.” When he was done bathing he came out and Clark couldn’t hide his grin as he was reading comic books on the bed.


	4. We are all broken. That's how the light gets in.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in Clark's life takes a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehh, took forever to upload. But it's here! Chapter 5 should be also done this week. Thanks for the patience and thanks for the reads!

Clark

Clark was strolling down the hallway with his friends Lana and Joel happily chatting away about the plans for the upcoming summer. Lana giggled, “It’s super cute how giddy you get about the summer. Is he coming here again?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned against the lockers, carefully eyeing Clark as he opened his bag to see what he needed for his class after lunch.

“No, we’re planning on going to Egypt. He’s been writing in his letters about how great it sounds. We figure, he came here last year, it’s about time for us to take a trip somewhere more… exciting. You get what I’m saying?” Clark grabbed the book out of his locker and shoved it in his bag. He snatched the lunch pail next and the three of them headed to the courtyard. Joel elbowed him in the ribs, “You two sound like an old married couple. You’re an old biddy planning a trip with her wealthy husband.” Clark blushed a little and waved him off, “It’s not like that. He’s my best friend is all.” Joel took on a fake shocked expression, “Um, ouch. Then what are we, chopped liver? Honestly….” Lana had noticed the blush and quickly tossed in, “I mean, he’s your best friend until you find the right girl. All guy friends disappear with the right girl.”

They laughed and as they went outside to eat at their favorite table, Clark felt like he was walking on air. They sat at a stone table, in a spacious courtyard filled with students. They always sat at one particular spot, a table with various scribbles that was always too warm for the other students to eat in comfort. It was out of the way, in a back corner of the courtyard, obscured by a large statue of Brigham Small, founder of Smallville. It had an inscription on it with the Ten Commandments and a small quote, “For God gave us a sprit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” 2 Timothy 1:7. Half of the table was always in full sunlight, with the other half hidden in the shade of a large tree. The time of day determined which half was baking in the sun and that was always the side that Clark took. He plopped down and the rays from the sun made him feel like he was bathing in the waters of heaven itself. He always loved the sun. It made him feel anchored to the world somehow. It made him think of Bruce and his hands that were always so cold.

 

He opened his pail and he saw the neatly packed lunch that his mother made him. He started on the peanut butter and jelly sandwich first. He knew he could eat at least three of these lunches, he was so hungry all the time. But his mother said it was probably just a growth spurt and packed his usual in the tin but sent him to school with a bag full of boiled eggs for him to wolf down in the morning. As he was about to take a bite into the sandwich, he could hear it. _Bathump bathump bathump._ It was behind him. He knew the rhythm. It was burned into his memory. He scowled as he yelled out, “Get lost Franklin. Just let us eat in peace.” The heart rate sped up almost instantly, “How did you know it was me? How do you always know it’s me? You a witch?”

“Witches are girls Franklin, warlocks are boys.” Joel smugly replied as he turned to see the Franklin striding towards them. Franklin plopped down next to Joel who visibly flinched. Franklin scoffed, “Why do you know something like that dweeb? You been reading too many comics again?” He snatched Joel’s sandwich from his hand and took a big bite, “Mm, egg salad. My favorite. You shouldn’t have.” He elbowed Joel hard in his ribcage and stood up, leaving Joel’s wiry frame doubled over. Clark stood up, “Give him back the rest of the sandwich.” Franklin looked him dead in the eye as he slowly took another bite, “No.” He strolled up to Clark and didn’t break eye contact as he reached past him and slid his lunch pail closer to him. He glanced in the pail, “Nothing good. Should’ve known Kent. Isn’t your little friend from before rich? You’d think he’d give you some cash so you can afford to feed little ole me.” He leaned in close, inches away from Clark’s face. Clark realized that Franklin has grown some since last year. He could smell every ingredient in the egg salad on the bully’s breath. Franklin smirked, “You wanna bite Kent? It’s pretty good. If you ask me nicely, I’ll let you have it. I’ll even give it back to your friend there.” Clark’s eyes began to flash, and Franklin almost wavered from his bullying. He thought he glimpsed them flicker a different color. Franklin leaned in even closer, to the point Clark could feel his breath, “Ask. Me. Nicely. Kent.” Clark swallowed hard and plainly asked, “Can I have the egg sandwich?” Franklin stood up straight, “Now, was that so hard Kent?”

 

He took a small bite and looked down at Joel who was looking at the ground. Franklin sat down gently next to Joel and bent down some to look up into his face. Joel’s hazel eyes met his green ones. He smiled sweetly, and put a hand on Joel’s shoulder. He slid it up his neck slowly and whispered so that only Joel (and unknown to him, Clark as well) could hear, “You’re awfully cute for a boy. I’m no queer, but when you look soft like this, it makes me want to be kinda sweet to you.” Franklin looked at his face and he could feel Joel trembling under his touch. He ran his hand up to his hair, feeling it, as he spoke in the most dulcet tones he could muster, “You even have nice hair you know? Well, Kent asked me nice, and I’m ready to leave anyways. You… provoke me. Here’s your sandwich.” Then he shoved the entire sandwich into Joel’s face, making sure to rub it in as hard as he could.

Lana jumped up, “I’m going to get a teacher if you don’t leave Franklin.”

“No one cares about who you get you whore.” Clark’s hand instantly grabbed the back of Franklin’s neck and picked him up before shoving him into the statue. Franklin yelped in pain so loudly the whole courtyard seemed to stop to look. Franklin struggled to get his bearings, his head was spinning and his shoulder dropped at an unnatural angle. Lana helped get the egg salad out of Joel’s face as kids gathered around and a teacher came running out while angrily shouting, “What happened here?!”

 

Clark sat next to Lana and Joel outside the principal’s office. Their parents would be their soon and they knew they were on borrowed time before their parents killed them. Lana smiled sweetly at the Clark who looked even more miserable then her and Joel combined, “Hey you. You’re my hero. Thanks for putting Franklin in his place. I’ve never seen you so mad.” Clark didn’t respond and she touched his hand gently, which shook him out of his trance. His hand whipped away from hers, and he looked at her, noticing for the first time, the enlarged pupils and the sweet smell coming from her. She liked him. He settled back down, “Sorry. I… I was lost in thought.” He gently took her hand, “Thanks for the hero comment.” When he let it go, her face turned a soft pink as she blushed and she sat back in her chair. Then Clark heard it. The thud of the work boots. The panting and the slight whistle in the lungs. His father was here.

 

The whole ride home Johnathon tore into Clark with the most vicious tongue lashing could summon up. _What the hell Clark? Could’ve killed him… That’s why no sports. No self-control. Ashamed_. Shame came up a lot. When they were close to home, Clark had enough, “What was I supposed to do?! Let him humiliate me?! My _friends_?! Just stand there and take it?! I can’t do this forever, playing like I’m so dumb nobody! I had to do something. I just want to do _something_ without someone being afraid of me!”

“Who’s afraid of you?!”

“You are!” His voice caught in his throat but he couldn’t stop the tears, “Mom is. _Everyone_ is afraid of me or hates me because I’m different. But I didn’t choose this. Why should I be punished for being different when everyone else gets to enjoy it?! It’s not fair! It’s not my fault you and mom had a screwed up kid!” Johnathon parked the truck and they sat there. He watched his son sobbing his eyes out and he inwardly cursed because he knew that he was right. He _was_ afraid of his son. Him and Martha didn’t know what this whole thing would entail, just that they wanted to give him the best life. He knew it was time for the lies to end. For the façade to end. He realized that children, no matter how super or ordinary, are far more perceptive then anyone expects them to be. He tried to control his son with fear, but now he had to do it with honesty. He waited until Clark couldn’t cry anymore, and he gently commanded, “Go get your mother and tell her to come here. We all need to talk about something as a family.”

 

Clark ran his hands over the hull of the ship. The strange symbols and lit up under his fingertips. He pressed the small blue button that shimmered and listened to the recording again:

_To the denizens of this planet. This message will be translated into your tongue for you to understand. Do not be afraid. We are Jor-el and Lara, father to Kal-El, our son that we send to you. Our planet is dying. It is dying too quickly for any of us to anything to stop it or even slow it down. Jor-El is a planetary scientist who is blessed with the good fortune of the resources for us to save someone. There were not enough resources to save us all on a journey to your world, so we did what all parents would do and we sent you our most precious treasure. Our son. There should be enough air, food, and water in this ship for him to safely land on your planet. We send him not as an ambassador or conqueror but simply out of a selfish need of two parents to save their only child. We hope that he will serve as the former and tear down the latter, no matter who they are. Your sun… your sun is like our own. Your people look like our own. This is why we chose your planet. He shall have physical gifts of all Kryptonians in your yellow sun, which he will discover in time and study through the information we have downloaded. We hope and pray for him to have a good life, a dear family, and a planet that he can love as much as we love him._

He crouched on the ground and he cried, harder than he ever cried in his short thirteen years on earth. Martha cried into her husband’s shoulder and the family bonded over the shared release of the biggest secret any of them had ever known. Clark sat at the dinner table, with the red blanket from the ship in his hands. His bloodshot eyes took in every fiber as his mother talked. Her voice was like background noise, “I kept it. Every child should have a blanket. But, when you were small, people kept asking me where I bought it, or how I made it. The material is so… exotic. I didn’t know what to say, so we just stopped letting you take it out. But you still loved it. When you were too old for blankets, I folded it up and put in a nice garment bag. To keep it fresh, keep moths away from it.” Clark looked at her “Thanks mom.” She broke down crying. He frowned a little, “Why are you crying?”

“For years I thought of this day. _Years._ And you know what my biggest worry was?” She took another corner of the blanket in her hands, “It wasn’t the ship, or the message, or anything else. It was the stupidest thing. I was worried you wouldn’t call me ‘mom’ anymore.” She looked at him and they shared a chuckle before he hugged her tightly. He didn’t let go for what seemed an eternity. When he let go, he hugged his father the same way. When he sat back down, he nodded his head. “You didn’t give birth to me but you’re my parents.” He sighed, “And I’m not from here. But this is… this is my planet. This is my home.” Johnathon tussled his son’s hair, “This is your home and it always will be.” Clark nodded again before chuckling, “I wonder what Bruce is gonna say.” Johnathon looked nervous, “Are you sure he’s ready for all this?” Martha waved her hand as if waving her husband’s words out of the air, “Oh come on John. Bruce knows Clark can lift a car. He’s like our son. If Clark can handle it, Bruce can too.” As they debated this point, Clark’s mind drifted to Lana. He recalled very vividly today the color of her eyes, the shine in her dark hair. He didn’t know why, he just did. He surmised that it was because he felt keen to reflect on the day through this new information.

 She put a hand on Clark’s face pulling him out of his thoughts, “My wonderful son.” Suddenly Clark’s stomach growled loudly, “I take it you’re hungry?” She playfully asked.

“I’m starving.” The phone began to ring. They looked over and Johnathon shrugged, “If it’s important, they’ll call back.”

“Let’s get burgers tonight huh? Dad’s treat.” They laughed and Clark held the blanket one last time before folding it up and placing it back in the bag. His mom put her hand on his and stopped him from zipping the bag up, “You can leave it out if you want to. I know just the spot.” She took it from him and gingerly spread it on the back of the sofa. Clark smiled and the Kent family got their things and went to get dinner. All of them exhausted from the day but feeling freer than ever before.

 

When the door closed behind them the phone rang again. A few minutes after that, it rang once more. On the other end, Alfred hung up. He walked back to the library where Bruce stood holding the bat’s dead body. Alfred grimaced, “Didn’t I tell you to get out of the room. I have all this glass to clean up and I don’t particularly love having you here where you can get cut. And put that thing down. It’s probably diseased.” Bruce looked around the library, found a small box and slipped the bat inside. “Go wash your hands. When I’m done here, we’ll have dinner.” Bruce took the box with him as he was leaving, “Where are you going with that?!” Alfred yelled. Bruce turned and softly answered, “I’m going to bury him outside.” He left and the dread that Alfred felt that day only grew stronger.


	5. Hell is Empty and All the Devils are Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's chapter. Starts a bit before Clark's! This chapter covers the forming of the young dark knight and builds on how he became the Bruce we all know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh, I appreciate everyone's patience. This is an EXTRA long chapter since i went on vacay and didn't post anything. I know this isn't about romance quite yet, but we get back to it next chapter. You just have to be patient a little longer!

Bruce

_The Wayne family owned about a fifth of Gotham. You can’t talk about the family or the city without mentioning one or the other. Their names, money, and influence molded Gotham into a city that everyone knows but not everyone could live in. New York offered non-stop lights, L.A. lured in those seeking fame, Metropolis gleamed with the light of the future. Gotham offered none of those things. Gotham ensnared those seeking a good life, even if they didn’t quite know what that looked like. The young and hopeful mingled with the friends in low places as they streamed into the city._

_Wayne money built towers of apartment buildings for families. Wayne money built the fine schools for the children to attend. They built the roads, bridges, libraries, parks, buildings where mom and pop stores opened. The architecture was stunning and reminiscent of times past from earlier empires. Palisades made of marble and granite held up pagodas where young lovers could sit outside and enjoy the weather. The libraries had ornate ceilings made of stained glass or intricate inlaid designs. Curves and geometrics carved into building fronts and columns made the city feel ancient yet new. Gotham grew fed off of the Wayne’s money, seemingly infinite with no want of repayment. The Wayne’s gave freely for their cup runneth over._

 

Bruce Wayne has always been a curious child, in more ways than one. He has always had a voracious appetite for knowledge, and he liked to be able to apply it to things around him. He enjoyed puzzles and drawing. He was more of a scholar than anything else. When he lost his parents, he threw himself into reading anything and everything he could. He holed himself up in the library and ate so little that Alfred felt like the already frail boy was wasting away before his very eyes. He knew how to help soldiers get over a loss in the British Army. But those were full grown men, with combat experience and training. They had prepared themselves for their lives to be over or changed, even if they knew there was no way to ever truly be ready for it. This was a child, who the day before it happened refused to eat his broccoli because there was no cheese.

 

Alfred was cleaning up Thomas’ possessions on the day of the funeral. He was putting the papers from the desk into a box. He opened a drawer and as he pulled the papers out he began to sob softly. He stopped and wiped his eyes. He kept going and found a small red book. It had a gold inlay with the initials T.W. He opened it, and it was filled with notes on things Thomas has seen while walking in the park, or by the docks. There were a few pages on development ideas for future projects in the city. He flipped to the last page and there was an address with the name “R.A.G.” He wondered who it was, trying to think over all of the guests he’d seen go in and out of the mansion. He placed it gently in the box and then he went back into the parlor. He saw the back of the small figure of Bruce, sitting next to an older man with gray hair on the sides of his black hair. The man had his arm around Bruce’s shoulders and Alfred watched as the young boy leaned into the side of the old man. He tried to hide his wild suspicion as he marched over to the two. He locked eyes with the man and put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, “Excuse me sir. Can I help you? How do you know-” the man raised his hand off of Bruce and held it out for a handshake, “I am a friend of Bruce’s father. We go… way back.”

“I don’t recall ever seeing you spend time with Thomas.” The man shifted in his seat to cross his legs and grinned in a way that would make the devil shudder. “Well, we were business partners. You don’t see China everyday and yet you know it is there. Bruce here knows me. I brought my youngest daughter over for some high tea and playdates. I daresay that he is Talia’s best friend. I am sorry for his loss.” The man had a voice that seemed to reverberate in the entire room. His presence made the thirty five rooms of the Wayne mansion feel like an apartment. Alfred sat down slowly next to Bruce and scooted him closer to his side, “What did you say your name was?” The man ran a hand through his thick hair, “Bruce is a bright boy.”

“I know. Your name?”

“If you aren’t careful, his grief will be his only home. This place will be his coffin if you aren’t careful..”

“I’m not taking advice from any man that cannot tell me his name.” The man smirked and never looked away from Alfred as he firmly spoke to Bruce, “Bruce boy. Tell your guardian my name.” Bruce swallowed hard and tried to fight back the exhaustion he felt from crying, “He’s mister R’as.”

“Well, it’s a… pleasure to meet you Mister R’as.” Alfred said slowly. He brought Bruce to his feet, “But we have to go. I think Bruce needs to rest.” He whispered in Bruce’s ear to go upstairs and Bruce nodded. He turned and muttered a weak, “Goodbye” to the guest before shuffling off. The men watched Bruce leave and the older man turned to Alfred, “This is a difficult time for the boy. I do not know if Thomas left any instructions as to his care, but last I checked I was listed as guardian should something like this transpire.” Alfred’s eyes grew large and his face turned red, “Listen here you son of a-” R’as raised a hand firmly, “Calm yourself Mister Pennyworth. I have things in motion that don’t allow me to bring another child under my wing.” He brought a small notebook from out of his inner coat pocket and began scribbling in it while he talked.

“Your time in the British forces make you capable and you’re work with the family makes you familiar. That is what he needs right now. A princeling like him will quickly find this place suffocating. There should be a set of keys in Thomas’ belongings. They go to the red car in the garage, I know there should be three, but take the one closest to the door. It runs like a dream. There should also be a large stash of cash in a safe in the library. I’ll write the combination down for you. That should be plenty to live off of until affairs are settled. I’m sure you’ll find in Thomas’ belongings who is responsible for the long term care of the boy.” He ripped a page from the notebook and handed it to Alfred. On it were a string of numbers and a phone number. R’as stood up, “That’s the safe combination, and the phone number to an employee of mine that I trust. If you need anything at all, and I do mean _anything_ then please ring me. It is yours.” He smiled and put a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. He felt the man flinch under his grip just a little, “Listen Pennyworth. Right now, the boy needs you above all others. Give him the two things a child, no, any man needs the most. Time and patience. Everything else will fall into place. Best of luck. Sorry for your loss.”

 

Alfred was shaken by the conversation. The man knew everything about him and he was terrified by the casual nature that he used the information. For brief moments he wondered if the Waynes’ truly fell due to bad fortune rather than bad intentions. He wanted to talk to the man more, but a cold feeling overcame him and he decided that if this man was as dangerous as he surmised, he couldn’t risk it. He has a child to care for now. When he finally stepped back into the study, he tried the combination and it worked. He looked at what looked like fifty thousand dollars, a king’s fortune. As he took out the money to count it, he found a small letter folded and placed between two stacks of money. He opened it, and recognized Thomas’ handwriting. He read it over and folded it back up as soon as he was done. He closed the safe, went upstairs, looked in at Bruce’s sleeping figure and realized he was thirty-five and suddenly responsible for a child. He cried as hard as Bruce did and went to bed. The next day he asked Bruce about the man. Bruce just shrugged at everything and said he’s known him since he was born. Two weeks after that, he saw this child disappearing into the sadness that polluted the house. He spent all day in the library. He didn’t eat enough. He slept too often. He was wilting away. Alfred packed some suitcases, took the money and the letter, put Bruce in the black car (he had no trust in the red one anymore) and took him on a road trip. He cursed his stubbornness during their trip to California when the car started to sputter. But he felt like destiny intervened as he watched Bruce make the first friend he’s had in a long time.

 

After Bruce met Clark, he changed. He started asking Alfred questions about magic and science that he simply couldn’t answer. He went back to the library to look for books on myths and heroes. He seemed particularly intrigued by Heracles, carrying a book titled “Hercules: Hero of Men” everywhere he went. Alfred would see him scratch down notes in a diary he kept whenever he learned of a new task Heracles had done. He took particular interest in Samson afterwards and started sending letters to Clark often. Every day was a new question, then a search for answers that only led to more questions. The people in the post office began to know Alfred by name because two to three times a week he’d have to post a letter to the Kents and Bruce would eagerly wait for the reply. Alfred tried putting him into sports which Bruce didn’t enjoy, so Alfred did would any self-respecting parent would do: he made him try any and all of them. Bruce picked up fencing and was happy to learn self-defense from Alfred. He then started going to boxing twice a week after school, and even all of this didn’t slow him down. Bruce went him to the best private school but the teachers said he was too fast for the rest of the class. One teacher suggested getting him a tutor, not to help him keep up but to prevent him from becoming bored and disrupting her class further. _Further?_ Alfred inquired. She had no shortage of tales that made Alfred turn red with frustration.

 

One Saturday, as Alfred prepared lunch for the two of them he half listened to Bruce ramble on about Clark and magic. He served the sandwiches and finally decided he might very well be in over his head. Bruce was already smart and driven, but when he got on something he was _relentless_ and he was so focused on Clark and magic that Alfred felt he might wake up one day and see the child pulling rabbits out of hats. He recalled that he had received a letter in the mail from R’as asking about Bruce and he sent a reply telling him that Bruce stays in Gotham. R’as said he understood and offered the assistance of a nanny who had worked with his daughter should he need it. He offered to pay for her for as long as he needed. After handing Bruce his plate, he cleaned up and told the young boy to stay put. He went into a hall closet that he used for storing the downstairs cleaning supplies and opened a small panel behind a set of mops. Inside was a black box with a heavy lock on it. He took the guy from his pocket and opened it up, digging through paperwork and deeds until he found the letter from the day of the funeral. He reread the one part that stuck with him, _R’as may not be a good man. We don’t know much about him. But he is a father and he treats our son as his own when he is here. We cannot ignore that._ He folded the letter up, put it back in the box, closed the panel and stood up. Were he not lost in thought about what he was about to do, he would’ve hear Bruce sneak back to the kitchen.

 

Bruce finished his lunch, absolutely giddy to have a new mystery to solve. What was Alfred hiding? Why did he seem so agitated? He wrote these questions down in his “Book of Mysteries”, the small leather bound journal he kept with him. Since meeting Clark he figured it was a good idea to keep track of their discoveries of what Clark can do. If he was in fact some kind of modern day Hercules, they needed to detail his feats for others. He slipped the book back into his pocket and made a mental note to write a letter asking Clark if he can hear through thick walls. He washed his plate as he mulled over other abilities he’d read about or seen on television. One alien in a movie he saw could see through walls. He wondered if Clark could do that too. After finishing the dishes he strolled through the house. Thirty five rooms and no one room was truly ideal for a young man. The house was built long ago, and had gone through numerous changes. But a family can only use so many rooms, so many of the rooms kept the same interior design that his grandparents put in. He made his way outside, to one of the reading patios. It was a small garden area, with flowers and fenced in by hedges. There was a pear tree and a tall oak not far from it with a tire swing.

 

Bruce tried to climb into the tire swing and noticed that he was getting too big for it. He decided to try something new. He climbed the rope of the tire swing up to the branch it was tied to. His arms hurt from the effort, but he knew he could do more. He made his way, bit by bit, up the tall oak tree, until he was near the top. He peered out from between the leaves and noticed he could see into a couple of the rooms on the second floor. He was looking into a bedroom that no one ever used. His mother called it a “guest room” but that was a term of courtesy. The Waynes’ never really had guests that often. He looked at the drab burgundy curtains hanging and for a brief moment, he thought he saw them move. He squinted. Nothing. He knew what he saw. He waited for a few minutes. Another quick movement in the curtains. He quickly looked around the branches and found a place where he could straddle a branch and take notes without falling easily. He took out his notebook and he waited. He tried to think about the possibilities of who or what the thing was in the room. He wondered if he should scurry down the tree and tell Alfred. But something in him wanted him to stay. His curiosity outweighed any sense of well-being. He checked his watch and marked the time in his notebook: _1:42 pm. Sunday. Noticed the curtains in one of the guestrooms moving. Person? More then one? Monster? Stronger than Clark? Maybe he can hear me!_ He thought to himself how lucky he was to have just eaten lunch because he knew he would be up here for a long time. He stayed in that tree for three hours before he caught a glimpse of movement again. He stayed still, hidden in the leaves as he saw a face peer out the window before quickly closing the curtains. His heart practically stopped. He wasn’t imagining things. There was someone in that room.

 

Alfred paused, weighing over his options. For all he knew this mystery man already knew how overwhelmed he felt and was waiting. But then, nothing of truly bad fortune had happened, barring the old car breaking down. Even then that was a blessing for the friendship that was blossoming in Bruce’s life. He picked up the phone and rang a friend of his from Manchester. She lived in New York, and maybe it would give him an excuse to take Bruce on another trip. He knew the boy probably felt lonely, he needed more friends. The kids in his class weren’t exactly eager to spend time in the Wayne mansion. It sat on a lonely cliff outside of the city as opposed to within the city borders. All of the kids lived in posh upscale buildings in the city’s heart and the Wayne’s were sequestered to the outskirts. When he rang his friend, she expressed her sympathies but asked him to call back later. He rang another and they didn’t answer. The third was more than happy to help and she offered the suggestion of “more church and less time spent reading about spells and other things that were the devil’s handiwork.” He hung up the phone and flopped onto the chaise. He sighed and covered his face, trying to put everything in his mind in order.

 

He remembered that there was a meeting the next day at the company about getting into new industries. He remembered that he also had to go to the grocery store again because they were out of soap, toilet paper and he needed to pick up something for dinner. He sat up and looked in the drawer of the table where the phone was. He dug out paper and pen and started jotting down a grocery list. He went to the kitchen and took a quick inventory of whatever else they needed. He didn’t even glance up as he hear the traipsing of feet. Bruce came in, fixed a ham sandwich and poured a glass of lemonade. Alfred was writing down _pickles_ as he asked, “Didn’t you _just_ eat?”

“Yes. But I’m a growing boy. These are important formative years for me Mr. Pennyworth.”

“You know I hate when you call me that.” Bruce grabbed an apple and opened the silverware drawer. He took out the sharpest knife he could find and a fork. He cut up the apple and put the fork in the sink, then slipped the knife into his pocket. He glanced at Alfred quickly and saw that he didn’t notice the sleight of hand. He knew all he had to do was to let Alfred hear dishes. He grabbed the food up in his arms, “I’ll do my dishes when I’m done eating Alfred.” He sped out of the kitchen and Alfred went back to finishing the inventory, making a note to buy extra snack foods for the growing boy.

 

Bruce stood outside the door. He had walked down the hallway and labelled the rooms in numerical order. This was room number 4. He knocked and slid his hands into his pocket. Nothing. He knocked again. Then he gathered up his courage and boisterously said, “Listen. I am the master of the house. I don’t know who or what you are, but I know you’re in there. So I suggest you come out now. Or else.” The door creaked open and a woman with raven hair and green eyes stood there. She wore a black scarf wrapped around her neck, with a black bodice that fit her well and was stitched close on one side. Her black riding pants and black and red riding boots completed the look. She narrowed her eyes, “Or else _what_ princeling?”

 

Bruce whipped out the knife, bead forming on his brow. He didn’t think he’d actually find someone living in his own home! His faked bravado cracked for a second as he stuttered out, “or else… I’m going to get Alfred.”

“Pennyworth? Oh ho, I’d kill you first then beat him to death with your am princeling.”

“Don’t call me that. Why are you calling me that?” She chuckled. “Well, my orders are to watch over the prince of Gotham. Your so-called guardian Pennyworth would not give you to the great Dragon’s Head, and so he has sent me.”

“Who are you? What’s the Dragon’s Head?”

“So much to learn little princeling. But it’s not your time to learn it all yet. I was sent to be your guardian angel. You may call me Nihin.”

“You don’t look like an angel. You look… scarier than that.”

“The devil was an angel too boy. I make sure no one comes for what rightfully belongs to the Dragon. That includes you. So now that you’ve found me little detective, where do we go from here? Also, put that knife down. If I wanted to I could’ve already killed you with it. I’ve seen your training. You’ve no skill with a weapon.” Bruce’s hand dropped to his side and he sized her up. She was powerfully built, it was clear even under all the armor. “How long have you lived here?”

“Since your parents’ untimely passing.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Does Alfred know?”

“No he doesn’t. And you’re a child. I don’t have to tell you anything. My turn. How did you find me?” Bruce pointed to the window behind her, “I saw you from the tree branches outside. The blinds moved.”

“Huh. Last time I try to get some sun I suppose. Okay little prince-”

“Bruce”

“… _Bruce_. What happens now?” She glanced at the food he placed on the ground by the door. “That for me?” He looked down and quickly picked it up and handed it to her one by one. She took a big bite of the sandwich and seemed to be relishing the taste as she chewed it slowly. “This is a damn good sandwich. Next time I want mustard and mayo.”

“Okay. What do you do for the Dragon? Just protect people?” She shook her head, “All in time my little prince. Get going. Pennyworth will be searching for you soon.”

“Can I visit you again?”

“Perhaps. If so, do it at night.”

“Why?” She grinned, “One day you will be old enough to ask that when a lady tells you to come at night. Also, night time is when the world and sun go to sleep. That means-” she bent down and tapped Bruce’s nose, “That is when the demons and devils own the world.”

 

It has been a month since Nihin’s discovery and Alfred is sitting in the parent teacher meeting with Mrs. Sparrow, Bruce’s homeroom teacher. She smiled sweetly at him, “I’m sorry to call you all the way here.”

“It’s fine. What’s wrong?”

“Bruce has been… a bit off in class lately. He’s been out of it lately. He hasn’t been paying attention and he’s been sleeping in class. He knows the material well enough, but well… Are there any changes at home recently?”

“No. He seems fine at home. He’s been doing sports, reading. He’s even calmed down quite a bit.”

“He’s at a very sensitive age Mr. Pennyworth. I know that he is not your son, but he is your responsibility. Perhaps a nanny can assist you? Every child needs a mother and a father. He has neither, but he has you and that’s… close.” Alfred leaned forward and the anger crept into his voice, “Do you talk to _all_ the parents in this manner, or am I just lucky?” She turned bright red “What I mean to say is. Perhaps it’s-well-I mean… Perhaps it’s good to find the time to check in with him. Make sure he’s doing okay. Scale back the extracurriculars a bit.” She smiled sweetly again and Alfred tuned out the rest of her complaints as he started thinking about how angry he was at everything.

 

After very actively chewing Bruce out, Alfred made a quick dinner, had Bruce eat and sent him to bed. After the house settled and creaked and Alfred drifted to sleep, Bruce climbed out of bed. He went to Nihin’s room, this time room 7. She moved rooms every three days. Sometimes when he visited she would surprise him with Turkish Delights or a book. He wondered how she managed to get them if Alfred was in the house with her during parts of the day. He knocked four times, paused, knocked four times again, paused and then one knock. Nihin opened the door and Bruce fell backwards as she tried to aim a punch right at his face. He quickly got up and defended himself from the flurry of blows, his arms stopping each one before it could strike his face. After a few more attempts she nodded and smiled, “My my my, you’ve gotten quite fast. I’m proud of you for taking this training so seriously.” He nodded and grinned, “You’re a much better teacher then my boxing teacher. Alfred isn’t even as good as you!”

“Because boxing is a game, and self-defense is just to help you run away. A fight, _true_ combat is life or death.” They spent the night, practicing Latin and Arabic and combat styles. He left an hour earlier than usual and crept back into bed, quickly passing out in his own sweat and waking up three hours later for school. Nihin feel into a light sleep, a bit grateful that for once she got an assignment that was actually pleasant. One night, Bruce brought her a book about magic and asked if she knew anything about it. She tilted her head, “I know of some magic users out there. But I can’t claim to be any expert in it.” Bruce’s eyes lit up, “So, it’s real?!”

“As far as I know. I’ve seen plenty I can’t explain and as far as I’m concerned, that’s magic. Why you need to know? You’re always reading about the stuff. Planning on being a wizard?”

“No.” he said hesitantly. He wondered if it would be okay to tell her, then figured that a woman who can hide from Alfred for months in his own house could probably keep a secret. So he told her about Clark. Her eyes narrowed as he described his friend’s abilities. She listened as he explained that they think it might be magic that causes them. She shook her head, “This is a lot to take in. This friend of yours. He lives in Smallville? How does someone like that end up there?”

“I dunno.”

“Can you get him here? To Gotham? I mean… I might be able to find someone to help figure this out.”

“Oh! That would be really great! He’s never been here before! We were trying to figure out what to do for the summer anyways.” Nihin perked up a bit, “Actually. How about Egypt? We could all take a nice trip there. The Dragon resides there, he hasn’t seen you in some time. We could all visit him together. I’m _sure_ he would be able to help your friend.”

“That sounds great, but I’ve never met a dragon. Was he living in my house too?” Bruce felt a chill go up his spine as he imagined an actual dragon, curled up amongst boxes in the attic. She put a hand on his shoulder, “You’ve met the Dragon. However, you’re considered family to him so I suppose you’ve grown used to calling him R’as.”

 

Alfred noticed that Bruce had started developing bags under his eyes and napping in random places around the mansion. He had small bruises on him and he would sometimes seem so lost in thought he might never come back. As they were eating breakfast one morning he saw Bruce pushing his eggs around the plate. “What’s the matter?” he asked. No response. Bruce dozed off and Alfred let him sleep for twenty minutes before stirring him awake with a hand on his shoulder, “Have you been having nightmares?” Bruce shook his head and wearily asked, “Can we go to Egypt for the summer?” Alfred looked at him strangely, “Why there?” Bruce fell back asleep and Alfred left him. It was Saturday so he figured he needed the rest. He washed the dishes, then woke up Bruce and told him to go upstairs to sleep. After doing as he was told, Bruce dreamt of the night it all changed. He was strolling with his parents after the movie. He had said something to a man in the street. He followed them and dragged them into an alleyway. He pulled out a gun and his mother wrapped her arms around him. But he wasn’t in between his parents. He was in front of them, the size of a grown man, but he was a monster. He had the horns of a goat and the arms of a gorilla, and the strength of ten men. He roared and pounced on the robber, who was frozen in fear. He began to viciously hit him in the face, but no harm came to him. He just laid there and took it, like a doll. Then he heard Nihin’s voice calling for him. Telling him that punches don’t work, he has to end it.  He thought _why?_ And the Nihin in the dream heard it and replied, “Because night time is when demons and devils own the world. Angels don’t have power here.” He felt a hatred burn through his veins and he tore the robbers throat out, over the sound of the man’s screams were his parents cheering him on.

 

When he woke up, he felt groggy and disoriented. The dream slipped out of his memory. He knew how he felt in it but not what actually happened. He spent most of the day helping Alfred with chores, but he kept trying to remember the dream. He was helping to make lunch and not really paying attention when he sliced his finger open. Alfred helped bandage him up and chided him for zoning out. Then he knocked his knee on a sofa. He felt out of sync with the rest of the world. When it was dinner time all he wanted to do was rest. He showered and came to the dinner table, sporting the bruise on his knee and the bandage from his cut. “My aren’t you a sight,” Alfred joked. He nudged Bruce, “Are you okay? You seem… a bit off lately.”

“I’m fine. I’m just… tired.” Alfred laid a hand on his shoulder, “From what?” Bruce shrugged. “I guess I have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“I miss my parents.” This honesty caught Alfred off guard. A moment of heavy silence. “I miss them too.”

“I dreamt about them.”

“Oh? When?”

“This morning. I don’t remember much from the dream. But I think I killed someone in it.” Alfred looked at him, watching every line on the boy’s face. He tried to hide his concern as Bruce started eating his dinner. This was not the face of a child anymore. Alfred watched him eat his carrots and realized in the small instant, just how far he felt from Bruce. He felt like a stranger living in Bruce’s world. When did he stop being this child’s guardian and started being some mere caretaker? He feeds him, puts him to bed, sends him to school. But when was the last time he truly _talked_ to him? He cleared his throat and started eating. After a few bites he asked Bruce about school and boxing. _School is good. Boxing’s okay. Things are fine._ Alfred hadn’t felt that distant from a loved one in a long time.

Bruce washed up the dishes and went to read in the library. Alfred came close to stopping him but decided against it. Bruce could feel the effort Alfred was making and he didn’t know what to do. He trusted and loved Alfred more than anything and anyone, but he saw how worn he was after running the company. How he looked so much older lately caring for everything. Bruce just couldn’t bring himself to give him more. He loved him too dearly to do such a thing.

 

He picked a book Mrs. Sparrow had given him of short stories and flipped to “A Tale Tell Heart.” He was transfixed by the story of a man who drove himself mad with fear and it made him shudder. He thought of what he feared and he started writing a list, _bugs, getting lost, the dark_. He stopped and thought hard, tapping his pen before writing, _losing Alfred, bad guys, guns._ His face felt hot and he felt the tears spring to his eyes. He crumpled the paper up and went to the library to put the book with the rest of the finished books. He walked in and looked at the portrait of his parents hanging there, staring through him. He imagined what it would be like, to hear their heartbeats like in the story. Would it drive him mad? Would he be grateful to just hear any part of then again? He felt it coming, the sorrow that would overtake him. The random grief. It was stopped by the sharp crash of a small black figure flying through the glass window. It made him yelp and fall back and he watched as the bat struggled in a small pool of its blood to gather itself before dying. He was afraid to touch it and its small black eyes just looked into his blue ones. “You flew all this way just to die in my house?” he said to himself. He heard the hiss of air leave its lungs and he cried. Alfred flew in with a bat in his hands, “What the bloody hell happened in here?! ARE YOU OKAY?!” Bruce nodded and watched as Alfred let his guard down instantly. He knelt down and hugged Bruce tightly, and a second later Bruce hugged him back. Alfred let him go, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes… Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“Why did this happen?”

“I don’t know. It might’ve gotten lost. Turned around.”

“Are we cursed?” Alfred shot him a worried look, “No my boy, we are not. This was an accident. I’m… I’m going to clean this up. I’ll get a broom. You get out of here.”

“Alfred.”  
“Yes Bruce?”

“What if it’s an omen?”

“A what?” Alfred furrowed his brows, “Why would you say something like that?”

“Ms. Sparrow says that I should always look out for omens. A lot of important people died because they didn’t. Do you think… this is an omen? Are you going to die?”

“No. Never. Don’t believe that hogwash. Now, get to your room. I’ll clean this up.”

 

There was only one place he could send him. So he phoned the Kents. He listened to it ring until it couldn’t anymore. He hung up, poured himself a scotch on the rocks, and sipped it down. He poured another and felt a headache coming on. _When was the last time he had a drink?_ He wondered. He played over the argument that would ensue tomorrow when he tells Bruce they weren’t going to Egypt that summer. He waited a few minutes and he called again. There was still no answer. Alfred’s heart began to race as he began to make plans of where the two of them could go to get distance from the mansion. He tried to shake his head to get the omen comment out of his mind and then grabbed a broom and dustpan. He trekked back upstairs to the young boy who had begun to think of all manner of things that will stay with him forever.


	6. The family is God's greatest masterpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Bruce prepare for their summer together. In the final month before the long awaited summer break they have two very different paths leading them back together to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH this took forever to get uploaded. I rewrote this chapter about eight times and I'm still not thrilled with it honestly! But!!! I decided that was me being super nitpicky and just let it go. Enjoy! If work calms down this week, I'll start releasing on a weekly schedule on Thursdays until this story is done (then onto the next one)!! Cross your fingers!!!

_I hope this letter finds its way to the person who is caring for our son Bruce. I’m writing this letter because the Wayne men long ago made a deal with the devil and while it has given us prosperity it has also given us danger. This has started long before me, but the sins of the father rolls down to the son, and the sins of us have kept rolling down for generations._

_If you are reading this then something has happened to Martha and I. My sister Lily and her husband met an untimely end due to their hubris. I suppose that now it was our turn. Lily and Richard had been a beautiful couple. I could think of no two people in the world who were better suited for each other. She could light up a room by simply walking in and Richard absolutely worshipped her. To be honest, we were warned that there was something coming. We were warned as children that something was coming. We were told that we were always in danger. But it wasn’t our father, not our biological one anyways. It was our second father. The one who oversaw the Waynes for, what I suspect to be generations. I have known him my entire life. His name is R’as Al Ghul and I have never seen him look a day older than he did when I first met him. I think he is a devil. A real one, from hell. I think he is bound to this family and I think that it has cursed us to our misfortune._

_He had helped my parents spoil Lily and myself. He never cared much for growing close to our significant others. But he gave them a firm love, one that was built with gifts and offers of support. If they were allies to the Waynes they were allies to him. R’as used to tell us that he fights for the soul of this city, and the Waynes help him do it. He used to tell us ghost stories of people in the shadows who watch and wait for our fall so they can take the city. So he kept us strong. He wants us happy. He wanted the Waynes to become the dukes and duchesses to rule the city in his stead. As children he made it sound so daring, but as grew older, it became more sinister. More real. I felt that I wanted no part of his machinations. But my sister was enthralled by it._

_My sister loved him especially, he would bring her extraordinary gifts from around the world. The new massive library we have was a gift to her, built with architecture she liked from a book he brought her. She was like a daughter to him, but our parents did not care for the attention he gave us. My father warned us against him as often as he warned us of the outside world. He told us that he knew R’as to be wicked, but never told us how. Lily spent much time with R’as as she grew older. She wanted a larger role in running the family business but we all knew that a woman in business was simply unheard of. So R’as let her lead other projects. She travelled while her husband Richard became increasingly uncomfortable with her outings and her time away from family. She had always asked him to join her and at first he did but he wanted to stop. He wanted a home. Our father brought him into the company, hoping to settle Lily down. I personally feel that this directly led to her demise. I don’t think she was quite ready to settle down into being a mother and truly a wife to someone._

_She came back to Gotham, a different person. She was still a light, but not the soft gentle slimmer of spring. She was the blazing heat of noon. She was passionate and capable. Driven, unstoppable. She spoke up and out about things that concerned her, even if it wasn’t her place. My parents saw that the R’as had truly spoiled her so much she turned into someone else. She wanted to be strong, and when she was pregnant, we all thought that being a mother would be all the strength she needed in her life. Richard was running the company, they lived in a lovely house on the other side of the city, she was pregnant and had a part time job as a scribe for Al Ghul. Richard’s good temperament had even returned. Things were good. When she finally gave birth to my gorgeous niece, I was overjoyed. Martha and I had just gotten engaged. This was everything in life._

_Not long after the birth R’as gifted her a wing added to her house, and Richard made a proclamation during our family dinner. He wanted R’as to no longer be involved in their lives. I thought it wise. Martha and I talked it over and we decided that we should follow suit. To say my sister was not pleased is an understatement. She threatened us, she threatened to leave with baby Nichalia. She started wailing about how that’s impossible, about some shadow war, ramblings about immortals with strange names. We were concerned for her sanity. We had planned what to do if something ever came up. And then she disappeared. The next day, no clothes were packed, all of her stuff there, no money was missing. She was just… gone. So was Nichalia. Richard was overwhelmed. We had the police searching for her. R’as offered to help, but we all felt he had something to do with it. We knew she wasn’t dead. We all searched for as long as we could. Two long years. Martha and I got married. She became pregnant._

_And then Lily came back. But she came back without Nichalia. She was dressed in all red. She never said a word. She just... showed up._

_~1~_

Bruce had locked himself in his room and had threatened not to come out until summer. Alfred had a moment where he seriously thought that the child would in fact do just that, but then Bruce had come downstairs an hour later, stomped into the kitchen, fixed himself a sandwich while ignoring Alfred’s gaze and marched back to his room in a huff. Alfred yelled after him, “I better not find any pests in your room!” There was a loud slam from upstairs and he was sure he heard some swearing before the record player clicked on again and he was forced to listen to the way-too-loud skipping vinyl. Alfred felt like he could’ve pulled his hair out and fixed himself a scotch on the rocks. He downed it and took a few deep breaths before pouring another. He didn’t get to finish it before a chill came over him. A small panic, like an animal being hunted. He looked around and found nothing. He drained his glass slowly and poured the ice out. He held the glass as he checked a couple of rooms. He figured if someone was here, he could knock them out with it. When the chill left him he dropped the search and headed back to the kitchen to work out what to do about Bruce.

 

Clark and his parents had a new dynamic in the house. Where there was nervous uncertainty there was now cautious optimism. Where there used to be a need to withhold there was now a brave new sense of curiosity. Since finding out the truth he spent every day looking through the ship, trying to read and make sense of anything and everything he could. He found a family tree and a Krpytonian alphabet chart. He found audio files that taught him how to make the sounds in the language, which he found he could make with ease but his parents could not. He had to transliterate many of the words into English for his parents to even come close to pronouncing them. He discovered his name, “Kal-El” written in elegant script that he struggled to learn to write. He would go to school and immediately rush home. He stopped taking the bus altogether and would just wait until no one was around to run home. He began benching the farm equipment at home. He felt renewed. He came to school with more energy. He came to school on a particularly good day, and saw Lana as he came strolling up to the school. She had her raven hair tied up into a bun and a long blue dress with short sleeves. He snuck up behind her and brushed the back of her neck. She whirled around with her face hot and red, “Who is that?! Clark?! What are you doing?!” He laughed and noticed that she seemed shorter than usual. He smiled sweetly, “Sorry. I like that dress on you. It’s a beautiful color.” She pushed some stray hair behind her ear and nudged him, “Thank you. Don’t scare me like that.” She playfully pat him and marched off as if upset.

 

During lunch the trio of friends sat together and chatted and Clark heard the heartbeat. Five minutes later Franklin turned the corner, arm in a sling. He avoided Clark’s gaze as he strolled to eat his lunch elsewhere. Clark felt a wave of guilt hit him. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, he just didn’t want Franklin to bother Joel anymore. He looked down at his hands and Lana quickly noticed. She laid a gentle hand on his arm and she noticed that it felt like solid muscle. She felt her face get a little hot as she softly told him, “It was an accident Clark. You can’t keep beating yourself up.” Joel looked at the two of them and rolled his eyes. Clark could hear his heart get a little faster right before he said, “Get a room already you two.” He scoffed and Clark could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He didn’t want to cause any divisions in his friendships. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he just wanted the people around him to be happy. He tried to move away from Alana some, but she ended up scooting a little closer until the distance between them was closed again. He grinned and the two chatted happily away. Joel excused himself to the bathroom and quickly left. He ran into Franklin in the bathroom and they watched each other carefully as they washed their hands. Clark was talking to Lana and she was going over how much she disliked math when he cocked his head. He had learned to listen, _truly_ listen, through all the chaos he could hear all the time. He heard the heart rates rise, he heard a shuffle, fabric moving around. Lana waved her hand in front of his face, “Hello, earth to Clark. Where did you go this time? Your face is so red.” Joel returned much later and slowly finished his lunch, just in time for lunch. He and Clark didn’t look at each other for the rest of the day.

 

It was the middle of the night and Bruce was in the backyard, practicing his kicks against a tree. Nihin lounged in a chair sipping lemonade while watching him. She had her dark auburn hair tied up in a bun and she sported a long sleeved black squire style shirt and riding pants over her muscular form. “Bruce. Take a break. Come sit with me.” He wiped the sweat from his face and trudged over to plop in the chair next to her. His aching legs were practically screaming with joy from the break. She poured a glass and slid it over to him, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’m not that person in your life.”

“I don’t know what that means.” She smiled and leaned back. She looked off in the distance some as Bruce sipped his lemonade. She put a hand on his. “When you get older, you’ll learn that every person has someone in their life they have to lie to. Whether it’s because they don’t trust them, or they love them so much that they can’t break their trust.”

“That sounds contradictory.”

“Great word. Such is life however. All of life is like that. What matters is… I’m not the person in your life that you should lie to.”

“…Is it Alfred?” She turned sharply and flicked him on the ear. Her voice was firm but warm, “Listen to me, Alfred is _never_ the person you lie to Bruce. He cares for you. To have a child to love… is a blessing. But it’s not easy.” She poured him another cup. “Nihin?”

“Yes?”

“Are you a mom?”

“Do I have children? Yes. Am I their mother? No.”

“Why?” a long silence. She swallowed hard and Bruce knew he shouldn’t have asked. “Sorry,” he softly said. She shook her head. She forced a smile, “The League requires sacrifice for the Dragon. Women can give birth, but they are raised by the Matrons. A selected group of women and men picked by the R’as himself. My son was taken from me years ago. I… took this assignment because I hope to become a Matron one day.”

“You want your son back?” The tears rolled down her face as she took another sip of lemonade. She turned to Bruce. She ran her hand through his hair and leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead. She felt him flinch from the action. When she pulled away Bruce moved his chair next to hers and leaned on her. He held onto her and she played with his hair. He listened to her breathing and he began to cry. She held him tight and joined him and for a moment they just had each other’s sadness. Alfred stood in the dark kitchen, watching this strange woman holding this boy and he didn’t know if he felt scared or relieved.

 

Bruce woke up the next morning and put on a pair of pants. Nihin had wrapped his legs after training, but he couldn’t let Alfred see it for a couple of days at least. He trekked downstairs and went into the kitchen to see an impressive spread of food, eggs, bacon, ham, orange juice, oatmeal, waffles, and fruit salad. Alfred was frying himself an egg while Bruce grabbed a plate. Bruce grinned brightly, “You really went all out Alfred. This is great! What’s the occasion?” Alfred smiled at him, “You’re in a good mood.” Bruce nodded as he popped some fruit into his mouth. As he chewed he fixed a plate heaped with food. He plopped down and poured himself some juice. Alfred made his plate and joined him. He watched the boy steadily for a moment. He wondered when to ask it. Bruce felt the stare and looked over, “What’s the matter?”

“Listen. I know we don’t always talk much. But Bruce, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Tell me the truth.” Bruce’s face became very serious, and he nodded solemnly. Alfred shook his head, “Who is the woman from last night?” Bruce’s fork fell out of his hand and hit the table. He started coughing as he choked on his eggs. Alfred pat his back to help him and when he could breathe again he jumped out of his seat. His face was red. He was holding back tears. His voice cracked, “Who told you? Who told you?!”

“Nobody.”

“LIAR!”

“Stop it!” Alfred rose to his feet. Bruce felt for the first time in his life, very small compared to Alfred. Alfred took a deep breath, “I saw her last night. Having you kick trees. I came down to get… something to drink. I saw her. Who is she?” Bruce shook his head. Then he broke down crying. He couldn’t stop, his face was practically purple before he spoke again, “Her name is Nihin. Please don’t send her away Alfred. Please! I need her! Please!” He put his arms around Bruce and hugged him close while shushing him. He rubbed his back. He held him until the cries turned into whimpers and the whimpers turned into hiccups. He finally let him go and looked Bruce in his swollen eyes. He lowered his voice, “This… Nihin. How do you know her?” Bruce looked down at his feet. _Alfred is not the person to lie to_. “She… lives here. Mr. R’as sent her to watch over us. She teaches me to fight and sometimes helps me with homework.” Alfred’s breath was caught in his chest. He felt the room spinning and he slowly dropped onto a chair. “How long has this been going on?”

“A few months.”

“Is she here now?” A woman’s voice rang across the kitchen. “Yes _she_ is.”

 

A week after hearing Joel in the bathroom with Franklin, Clark decided he wanted to know something. He sat next to Joel on his bed reading comics, and looked over. He could smell the sweat on Joel’s skin from the walk to the pharmacy and a slight pungent scent. He only got that scent from other teenagers. He assumed it was the smell of puberty. Joel paid him no mind and as was sprawled on the bed, shaking his foot. Clark closed the book and leaned over some, “Hey Joel?” Joel didn’t even look up as he replied, “Hm?”

“Have you ever… done anything with a guy?” Joel’s face was a mask of pure terror as he looked at Clark. “W-w-why would you ask me that?” Clark shrugged gently, “I’m not a queer Clark. I’m not like that. People like that are sick. They get… hurt. They get killed. I heard two towns over they hung someone who was a faggot. That’s not me.” Joel was talking so fast that even Clark felt like he couldn’t keep up. Clark put his hands up, “Whoa, stop. I’m not judging you. I just want to know. My friend… I’m seeing him and I think… I think I want to be close to him.” Joel sat up and moved to the other side of the bed, “Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking _me_?” Clark shifted, “I’m not afraid of some bigots. I… think I love my friend. I think about him all the time.” Joel snorted, “except for when you’re with Lana.” Clark shot him a dark look. He stood up and put the comic back on Joel’s shelf. He picked another and came back to the bed, “I think about him even then. I… like girls. I think about how soft they are, how good they smell. I like Lana’s hair. But Bruce… he’s different. I think I love him. I think of him all the time. When we’re together, I want to touch him.” Joel shook his head and burst out crying, “Why are you so open? Why are you like this?” Clark sat down on the bed again and wiped Joel’s tears away, “Cause I’m stronger than everyone who hates me. I can protect myself. I can protect you too. Just help me.” A few moments of sobbing from Joel passed. Clark wasn’t sure what to do, so he sat there and let his friend cry it out. He held him close. When Joel stopped Clark got him some water and came back. He watched him drink it and got him another. After the second glass, Joel just looked at him. He laughed a little, “You’re friend is lucky to have someone like you.”

“He’s not. I’m the lucky one. He’s… incredible. I think he’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” Joel blushed, and nudged Clark, “Listen to you, you sappy nerd.” They laughed and the tension was suddenly broken. Joel got up and went to his closet. He dug through clothes to the back, and opened a small hidden nook. He took out a box and opened it, pulling out a small black book. He handed it to Clark, “I snuck it out of a bookstore I found in Liamsville. The big cities have these secret spots that sell stuff like this. They caught me and kicked me out. Can’t go back, but I got what I needed.” It had gold inlay lettering, _Homoeros: The Pure Love Between Men_. Clark shoved it into his bag quickly. Joel looked at him seriously, and Clark shook his head, “Your dad just got home.”

 

Later that evening, Clark flipped through the book of mildly erotic secrets ranging from how to kiss to how to perform extraordinary fellatio. He read each page carefully, stopping to masturbate a couple of times as he wondered what Bruce’s body would feel like. When he came down for dinner, Martha piled a small mountain of vegetables on his plate. She smiled and gleefully put a large piece of ham next to it, “You’re a growing boy. My baby turns thirteen soon! Eat it all up okay? Besides, Bruce is so small compared to you, you need to be strong and protect him from bullies right?” She winked at him and he rolled his eyes while trying not to grin. Johnathan frowned a little, “Stop babying him. And Bruce is a boy, he can defend himself just fine I’m sure. You’re a man soon. Thirteen! Gonna put all that strength to work here on the farm!” He laughed and started wolfing down his food. The phone rang and Martha folded her napkin quickly and leapt up to answer it, “Oh! Alfred! It’s good to hear your voice! Wait, what?” Clark looked at his mother and his father kicked him gently under the table, _Stop eavesdropping_ he whispered. He couldn’t help it. His head was buzzing from excitement as every word that fell out of Alfred’s mouth brought him more and more joy. Bruce was coming to stay with them for a while.


	7. It's so hard not talking to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of talking, but sometimes that's all you need. Alfred is forced to face ugly truths while Bruce is forced to let go.

_Lily came back to the mansion and we couldn’t get her to talk for three days. On the fourth day she greeted us in the morning like nothing had ever happened. She helped Martha around the house and cooked for us. She was… pleasant. It’s almost like she was back to her old self. Even more unsettling was she never lost the demeanor when we asked her about Nichalia. It was a whole week before she told us anything about my dear niece. She swore she was somewhere safe. That she gave her to a greater good. Of course, Martha and I thought she wasn’t playing with a full deck and we told her so. She laughed us off. She told us that she wasn’t here to harm us or talk about the past, but the future. She was something called a “Matron” now. She says that’s why she wears red. R’as has made her so, and she bears it with pride. I am so saddened to see my dear sister like this. She prides herself in her dogged servitude to this monster. I waited until the evening, right after dinner to sneak out and head into the city. I was going to the police for her actions. I got there and the officer I spoke to, a young Mr. Rowley listened intently and told me he’d look into it. He seemed so sincere and serious about it. Imagine my surprise when the next morning I found him in the parlor where we entertain guests, having tea with Lily! They were laughing and having a grand ole time. When I confronted them about it they asked me why I wished to work against the man keeping my family safe in this “war”. Even the police have been corrupted. They mentioned some man named “Savage” who strives to take what rightfully belongs to the R’as. This has gotten out of control. I don’t know who to trust anymore. Lily cannot stay here and I cannot go to the police for fear they will turn against me. Martha and I are afraid and the more Lily tells me not to be the more we are. She insists that some evil out there is greater than her, but what greater evil is there than a woman ready to sacrifice her child. Martha’s nerves are absolutely frazzled and we felt trapped in the house._

_I tried every avenue to get my family away that I could. I tried to sneak us out of the city, I tried to smuggle Martha out, to no avail. Lily would always find us. She kept talking about how R’as sent her to watch over us, that is her role as “Matron”. I insisted that if she were such a great “Matron” she would show up with my niece. She grew grim at this request and stormed off. Three days later, my niece, R’as Al Ghul and a pregnant woman stood at my door. He introduced the woman, draped in a red gown as his current wife, Taleah. She was a month or two ahead of Martha in the pregnancy it seemed. Had I not known how terrifying he could be, I would have easily been fooled by R’as calm demeanor as we had tea. Lily tended to Taleah and Martha’s ever wish, and even found time to make us scones. He tried to explain that he has long been at war with a man much greater than I could imagine. The name “Savage” came up again, no doubt a pseudonym. He told me how he has always considered my family the closest to blood relatives. He could never explain it, but said that perhaps the time he has spent growing our family has made him close. I felt a chill. I knew what he meant by that. It made me think of all those old photographs and paintings that had R’as in them, ever young like Dorian Gray himself. I could remember shuddering at the thought. He has tried to tell me that he was on the cusp of bargaining for peace. But he needed an offering. Something that Savage knew meant something dear to him. So he gave him a granddaughter. He gave him someone he considered flesh and blood._

_I remember shaking my head and looking at Lily who avoided my gaze. I asked what he meant by granddaughter and he simply said, “Any child born from a member of my clan is a child of mine. Their blood merely determines how much of my love they have earned.” Lily showed me the mark behind her ear. She had sworn in blood fealty. She told me she had done it years ago. I was shocked and appalled and asked R’as what was to happen to his wife’s child then. He simply nodded and explained that since he took a child from the Wayne’s, he would give one back to balance the scales. To “return the favor”. He came in person to tell me that he wanted our children to be, to be betrothed. Married at eighteen. Bound in love and duty to both families. One more child given to the role of peace._

_~2~_

“How long will Bruce be with us?”

“Until Alfred gets some things settled.” Martha tied her hair up into ponytail and grabbed her purse. She checked for the truck keys, dug them out and opened the door to let Clark go out first. She closed it, locked it and they got into the old pick up.

“What kind of things?”

“Things you don’t need to worry about.”

“Do you think he’ll live with us forever?”

“Heavens no. But he will be here for quite a while. That’s why we’re doing this. So that once summer ends he can go to school with you.”

“One week to go.”

“Counting down? Are you that eager?”

“Yes! I can’t wait! I hope whatever it is that’s making him come here isn’t awful. But I also hope he can stay a while.”

“Oh to be young again. I guess that’s the power of a best friend huh?”

“I guess so. What do you think his favorite food is? We should make it for him when he gets here. I gotta get a new shirt to wear for when we get him from the train station.” Clark grinned.

Martha chuckled, “Okay okay mister. We’ll pick one up in Lowetteson when we go there for your father’s boots.”

“Oh, I like Lowetteson. They have so much stuff there, there’s so many people! I wanna live in a city like that one day. Maybe New York. Or Gotham!”

“Ha ha, been in the car all of ten minutes and already making plans to leave your ole ma and pa huh?” They laughed and Clark felt like he could float right out the window and fly to Gotham to get Bruce himself.

 

Bruce was supposed to be in his room, but he hid in one of the downstairs closet. Both Alfred and Nihin were the type to keep their voices low when angered and so this would be the quietest argument he’d ever eavesdrop on. He could tell which was which by their accented English, Alfred with his Manchester accent and Nihin with her Persian one.

“And just who the hell do you think you are huh?! You are _living_ in this house, abusing that child-”

“I never abused _anyone_ Pennyworth and you know it.”

“Oh, so having him kick trees is your idea of _good_ parenting? Jesus, you’re a fucking _murderer_ living in the house with him. For all I know you’re the one who made him an orphan in the _first place_.”

“How… fucking… dare… you. How fucking dare you?! I am a killer but let me tell you, that was no act of mine. We want to talk about sins? What class was Bruce struggling in last month? Do you know? Do you care?! Because you seem well versed in that scotch lately.”

“You conniving bitch.”

“Call me what you want, I’ve heard worse. You _cannot_ send that child away. He’s my-! He’s important.”

“Yeah, to your psychotic monster of a boss.”

“This is true. But he is also important to me.”

“I’m not going to let you snatch him up just so you can brainwash him into being another killer like you and the rest of your little fucking club.”

A heavy silence that was quickly broken by someone setting a cup down and walking around the kitchen.

 

 

“I’ve done nothing but protect that boy.”

“By skulking around the house like some criminal?! By hiding away and keeping him up at night doing God knows what?! ”

“He’s a Wayne, he has to be ready!”  
“He’s a child! He deserves a normal childhood.”

“Of course he does, but that’s not what he’s ever going to get. The prince of England doesn’t get to just… be a kid because it’s what every kid deserves. That’s how the world works Pennyworth, you know that!”

“So why drag him into this madness? Why must he be part of _anything_ you have going on?”

“I didn’t _drag_ him into anything. I have kept him out of it! I have risked MY life to keep him out of all of it! THIS, what he has now, is the best I can do!”

“Real bang up job you’ve done then!”

“No. No sir. You should be _thanking_ me.”

“For what? For trying to turn him into one of you?”

“For saving his fucking life. And yours. It’s you and Bruce, in this house alone. You don’t think R’as couldn’t have just swept in to claim him? You think he didn’t consider slitting your throat in your sleep to get his hands on him? You told him no and what did he do? HE LEFT. Why is that huh? You think he is afraid of a washed up soldier from the British Army? When he has lived long enough to kill kings and emperors? You think a man who can barely keep the company together will threaten R’as Al Ghul so greatly. Ha.” Her scoff at the end was filled with the same rage that carried in the rest of her voice.

“Pennyworth. Let me tell you something that you’re not going to want to hear. The Waynes have tried this song and dance before. Trying to live some imaginary life where they are just normal rich people, out to spend money and not have a care in the world. They tried telling R’as what he can and cannot have. And you know what he did?”

“I know. He had them killed.”

“Wrong. He gave it to them. He is so much more than what you and I can comprehend. He has no reason to fight Thomas and Martha. None of us did. Those of us who made a home in Gotham did so because we were tasked with ensuring the safety of the Waynes and the security of R’as Al Ghuls’ physical investments. And then one day, we were forsworn. We got a black letter, which tells us that we stop what we’re doing immediately. Inside, it said that the Waynes had forsworn us. They did not want the Al Ghuls. They would not take anything from us. It had to have been serious because R’as would not let anything go that easily.” A sip from a teacup and the scuffling of feet was heard again.

“But it happened. A truce was broken. So we minded our business. Went on to our secondary assignments. If the truce was ever broken we had to start moving property from Wayne lands into other locations. No one was looking out for them. For generations, _generations_ the Blades in Gotham guarded the Waynes. And they said that they simply wanted to be ‘normal’. So we let them go. You stayed home that night for whatever reason-”

“I was sick.”

 

 

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is you weren’t there and neither were we. You know what got two of the most powerful people in the world? A fucking cutpurse. A robber. He gunned them down for some pearls and a few dollars and almost killed that child. Because _that,_ THAT is the type of thing that happens to NORMAL people every. Single. Day. They wanted to be normal and live this cute normal life and they got to do it for all of a handful of hours. We are both in this position because they did not want to accept the position they are in.”

“Why should they have to?! WHY should they have accepted what position he put them in?!”

“Because that is simply their lot in life! R’as, is immortal. He can wait us out. Wait _any_ of us out for our stupid mistakes. But he’s not omniscient. He doesn’t see everything. He is a man with blind spots. Maybe they would’ve found a way out that didn’t end in a body bag. Who knows? But people who say they won’t play the game always end up fucked over by it because they don’t know the rules Do you know why Bruce is here with you?”

Sniffling could be heard, soft and sudden.

“Bruce is here because I convinced R’as that a boy who lost his parents could not lose you too. I told him that he would be nearly impossible to train and even worse to have around. He was a threat to the blood heirs because he was smart enough to see them as leverage once he got older. I played the game. I told him what he needed to hear, and he kept him here with you. I told him that I would be his Matron. I would watch over him. But he declined. I’m his Blade. His guardian but not his… never his mother. I told R’as that if he left Bruce me and you that would be enough. I thought that this could prove that I could do this. That I could care for him. If you send him away, I’ll never earn the red. I’ll never be a Matron.” Two cups being put on the counter. Ice in both. Pouring of something. A deep sip from both people.

“So what? This is all a promotion to you?”

“No. A Matron outranks a Blade. At any day, a woman could show up, dressed in red and kill you where you stand and take Bruce. She would make sure he was forged in blood and steel, and I wouldn’t be able to stop her. But if I was a Matron, none would dare. Because he would be mine.”

“Do you hear yourself? Do you hear me? Why would I ever let him be _yours_?” He practically spat the last word out. Sips from glasses and then the pouring of another drink on the rocks.

“Because the alternatives are far worse and you can’t stop what’s out there. I can protect us all if you help me do it.”

“I can’t… I can’t let you do that. I swore I’d protect him and I can’t-”

“Then protect him. Stay. Keep him here with me. With us. I can do this. _We_ can do this.” Bruce couldn’t see them. But he had moved closer to the kitchen. Had he peeked in he would’ve seen the gloved hand of the woman pleading for her ward, holding on to the veteran turned caregiver. Alfred didn’t hate the feeling of her touch. He hated that he didn’t hate it more. He pulled away and finished his drink.

 

 

“He’s leaving. You’re not going to follow him. You’re not going with him. That’s that. I might never bring him back to this damned city.”

“That’s not an option.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I don’t threaten people I know I can kill. If they know it and I know that is threat enough. I’m telling you, R’as will find him. Wherever you hide him will become the most unsafe place in the world until you bring him back.”

 

Long sips followed by pouring of another glass. Long swigs and then another.

 “Are you going to kill me?”

“No.” He looked at her with a face filled with uncertainty. She repeated herself even more firmly, “No.”

“Are you just saying that because he’s listening?” A soft chuckle from them both and a gentle, “No, I’m not. Come here Bruce”. It was warm and maternal and it made him feel assured. He walked into the kitchen. Both of their eyes were red and Nihin held out an arm. He walked over and she hugged him tightly. She kissed him on the top of the head and they both missed the small flinch from Alfred. She then nudged him in his direction. Bruce hugged onto the man tighter than ever before and Alfred began sobbing as he hugged him back.

When he finally let Bruce go, he wiped the boy’s eyes, and then his own, “You want pot roast?” He didn’t know why he asked. Maybe he wanted a sense of normalcy in their abnormal world. Alfred felt like a weight had shifted from his shoulders to his heart. He felt in his soul that Nihin was right. He looked the boy over and rubbed the tears from his face, then started crying again. It passed quickly and he rubbed his face as Nihin poured him another drink.

 

“Bruce, get the vegetables out of the fridge,” she ordered. She got up and started preheating the oven. Alfred watched for a moment, before finally washing his hands in the sink. He pulled out a cutting board and Bruce carried over a large bowl of veggies. He was about to reach in and grab a potato when a gloved hand smacked him, “Wash your hands you little beastie.” He laughed and watched as she pulled the gloved off of her slender hands. Alfred moved over to make way for Bruce as he washed up in the sink. He looked over at Nihin who had pulled out the meat and a bottle of red wine. Alfred smiled, “Switching drinks so soon?” She scoffed, “This makes a better base then that swill stock you’ve been using. You’re a fine cook with a handful of dishes, but you have no finesse with most Pennyworth.” Bruce tried not to smile as he turned to dry his hands. Alfred walked over and acted like he was reaching past Nihin in a cabinet. In a low voice he growled, “If you poison us I swear I will find you in hell.” She narrowed her eyes, “That sounds like a challenge Pennyworth. If you’re that determined to get rid of me, then do it now.” They stared each other down, broken by Bruce coming in between them, “Nihin. I trust Alfred. Alfred, I trust Nihin. I know you hate each other now, but I love having you both here. Please be nice tonight.” His voice shook a little, “I’m about to leave my home.” They each took a step back. Nihin rand a hand through Bruce’s hair and Alfred held his shoulder. Alfred straightened up some, “Okay then. I’ll handle the veggies with Bruce, Nihin, I suppose you’re on meat and rice.”

“Oh thank goodness. I was worried we would just have pot roast.”

“Who eats pot roast with no rice?”

“I don’t know but they don’t deserve to be near food.” They laughed lightly and set about making dinner.

 

When they finally ate, the table was quiet at first. Alfred spoke first, “Pass the salt. Bruce, did you finish your homework from the tutors?”

“Why should I? I’m going to a new school.”

“Watch that attitude mister. Answer Pennyworth.” A surprised look on the man’s face as he watch the boy become instantly cowed, “Yes. I finished it.”

“Good. Good… How’s the pot roast?”

“Delicious.” Nihin replied while holding up what remained of the bottle of red wine towards Alfred. He took it and poured himself a glass. He poured a second one and passed it to her. They raised their glasses and drank deeply. Bruce grinned as he started to wolf down his food. Despite the heavy atmosphere, he loved every second of it.

 

A week later Nihin was gone and Bruce stood at the train station in Howardston. He had a massive black suitcase and looked around, before seeing the tall broad figure of a young man in a red plaid shirt. Clark rushed over and scooped Bruce into his arms for a hug as his father nervously watched the two embrace. He glanced at Martha, “You told me they were close, but this is…”

“Beautiful.” She interjected sharply. Clark picked up the suitcase and walked with Bruce excitedly, “You’re here! You’re really here! How as the trip? Is this all your stuff?” He looked around quickly and his smile diminished some, “Where’s Alfred?”  
“I’m wondering that myself son.” Johnathon put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce shrugged, “I don’t know. He sent me by myself. He took the car somewhere. I know he’s safe. He told me to give you this.” He took an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to Johnathon. Clark grabbed Bruce’s wrist, “Come on, let’s get to the car.” He walked so fast he practically dragged him. Bruce watched the back of his friend lead him away and he felt smaller than ever. He wanted to cry but he promised himself he wouldn’t. Not yet. There was a time and place for that and this was neither. Clark put his trunk in the back of the truck and Bruce climbed in. Clark got in next to him, took a quick glance around, and kissed Bruce on the cheek.

 

Bruce turned scarlet and leaned back, “What are you doing?!” Clark put a hand on his knee, “I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”

“Of course I did.”

“Then show me.” Clark said in a lowered warm voice. Bruce smiled and shook his head. Clark laughed, “Don’t worry. No ones paying attention. I would know.” Bruce rolled his eyes and gave Clark a quick peck on the lips. He took Clark’s hand and leaned back in the truck. Despite everything he was feeling, he knew in his heart he was happy to see his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I bloody did it! I got a whole chapter done on time! This one is SUPER long and might have a half chapter interlude in a couple of days depending on how I feel. Next Thursday is the goal for the next full chapter! Thanks for the reads, it inspires me! It really does! I have to be shameless for a sec: Please share and comment. I love you guys! Have a great week!


	8. Nevermore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Clark are together in Smallville and a new player enters the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super duper sorry this took so long. I was down for the count with a food poisoning and in my day job things got wild! There won't be an update for a couple weeks cause I"m going on vacay with the hubby, but in exchange, upon my return my plan is a doubly long chapter. I swear, this things gonna end up a bloody book. I swear this has an end in sight. Thanks for your patience and reads, I love you guys, be good stay healthy!

_Richard turned up missing but has mysteriously left the company in the care of myself and my sister via a collection of conveniently found letters. He had done good work with the Wayne Corporation, leading it, but he would never be a supporter of R’as. I knew something like this would happen. It was only a matter of time. Lily had been busy as a bee, tending to Martha hand and foot. They went shopping and Taleah sent gifts from places like France. Every time I brought up my concerns with Martha she offers an unenthusiastic explanation about how she cannot “just refuse”. She smiled and grinned as her and Lily spent time baking and cooking meals, Lily read her stories, or rubbed her feet. I thought she was faking it, and even if she is not she cannot grow accustomed to this. I refused to let this family sink any further into the dark plots of this immortal._

_So when Taleah came for a visit, her and Martha were talking baby names in our very kitchen! Whenever she wanted a visit, she would stay in this very house and I hated it. They talked as if this were all so normal! I came home from a tiring day at the company and there the women were, chattering away happily. Taleah was telling dear Martha about how she wanted to name her daughter after her, but perhaps with a different spelling because she dreaded hearing English speakers struggle to say it. Martha went down a list of names and Lily absolutely crowed when they got to the name Bruce. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told Taleah she had to leave immediately. She looked so concerned and my wife tried to stop me, my very own wife! She managed to talk down my anger and my own sister wanted to chide me for snapping at everyone. As if she had any room to speak to me but after that the women were wary of me. I took my meal in the library and just settled into the thought that this could not be my life. Living in a house, cowed in a corner, waiting for my crazed sister, or charmed wife, or R’as himself to come and claim whatever they felt I owed them. This had to end._

_Martha was due soon. I didn’t have long to wait. And so I bided my time. And things were good on the surface. Martha had a smooth delivery with Lily and I at her side. She wept as we both looked upon our new son Bruce. Taleah, had her daughter Thalia the next week. When we were coming home from the hospital we found three other women in red outside, waiting by the car. A squadron of men and women in black escorted us home in various cars. The Matrons and those clad in black helped Martha out of the vehicle and physically carried her inside. They led us to our bedroom with a brand new crib, draped in blue silks and gossamer fabrics. Martha placed Bruce inside and they told us to rest. They fixed me a scotch and brought us dinner. They even offered to bathe my wife. I asked them for time with my wife and they acquiesced without a fight! I held my wife and when she heard baby Bruce cry, she got up to feed him. As she nursed him she looked like an angel, a smile on her face as she looked at our son, she looked back at me and quietly said, “This is the happiest day of my life.” My heart broke. This cannot be._

 

Clark helped Bruce unpack, taking clothes out and packing them into his drawers. He glanced over to see Bruce moving fairly slowly. He touched his arm and they sat on the bed. Clark pushed some hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?” Bruce shook his head. “Please tell me. I’m so happy you’re here, I just… I just want you to be happy too.” Bruce looked at him, trying to fight the tears back, “Alfred made me leave someone I really liked being around.” Clark felt his chest tighten some, “Oh… well… this person… who was it?” Bruce shrugged. Clark tilted his friends face up so they could look at each other. He gently kissed Bruce’s lips, and Bruce closed his eyes and kissed him back. Clark slid his arms around him and pulled him in as he broke off the kiss, “I want you to be happy to be with me.” Bruce slid his arms around him so the two were holding each other.

“I am.”

“I want you to be honest with me too.”

“I’ll… I”ll try.” Bruce put his head on Clark’s chest and wondered what caused Clark’s heart to sound so powerfully loud. Clark pulled away and looked at Bruce excitedly, “I know what will cheer you up. Tonight after dinner, I want to show you something. I’ve been wanting to show you for ages since I couldn’t write about it in a letter.” Bruce looked at him strangely, “Okay, but what is it?” Clark kissed his forehead, “You’ll see. Let’s unpack okay?” They started back at the chore and not long after restarting Martha called them down for dinner. They went downstairs and Clark pulled Bruce’s chair out for him. Bruce’s ears and cheeks turned a little red, “Thanks” he quickly said as he sat down. Clark grinned back and plopped down next to him, “It smells great ma. What is it?”

“Pork chops in gravy with some mashed potatoes and carrots. Sorry Bruce, I’m sure you’re used to finer meals then this. But this is what we farm folks got.” She smiled sweetly at him and he shook his head, “I eat things like this in Gotham. Well… I _did_.” The corners of his mouth turned downwards a little. Clark put a large pork chop on his plate and then another on Bruce’s. Johnathon took the dish from Clark and put one on his plate as he glanced over at his wife. Martha raised her eyebrows and tilted her head at Bruce, the subtle way of asking her husband to talk to the boy. He worked on fixing his plate and as the sides circulated around the table he took a deep breath, “So Bruce. You uh… excited to be hanging out with us? You can see all that Kansas has to offer! It’s better than the big city! We got flat land and cows!” They all laughed and Bruce nodded, “Yes, I’m happy to be here. Thanks for watching over me while Alfred is busy.” Martha raised her eyebrows again, “So polite! No need to be formal dear.” Bruce looked a bit surprised, “This is how I usually talk.”

 

Clark grinned and nudged Bruce in the ribs, “Well we gotta get ready to teach you some slang then.” They all laughed and the warm glow of the light spilled out the window onto the dark corn fields around the house. A crow circled around and landed on the roof of the pick-up truck. It hopped around in a circle three times, cawed three times, and then pecked the hood three times. Then it turned its head and waited. Its small black eye peering into the window as it watched Clark tilt his head ever so slightly before glancing out the window into the darkness.

After the meal Bruce got up and started picking up his dishes. Johnathon raised an eyebrow, “A boy who picks up dishes without being asked? You’ll make your future wife a happy woman.” Bruce picked up Clark’s plate and carried it to the kitchen. He placed them next to the sink where Martha was starting to fill the sink with hot water. She pointed at the refrigerator, “See this? Brand new. We’re the talk of the town. Alfred got it for us a couple of months ago. He’s always helping us out.” She walked over and opened the fridge door, “The point of this is to tell you that you are practically family to us. And to let you see that this fridge is full and you can help yourself to anything in it.” He peeked past her and saw cooked meats and vegetables. He smiled, “Thanks so much Mrs. Kent.” She put a hand on his shoulder, “You can call me Martha.” He shook his head, “I’ve only called one adult by their first name. I think that’s more than enough for me.” She smiled softly, “Bruce. Did… did anyone… touch you? IS that why Alfred sent you here?” His eyes widened in surprise, “What?! No! Oh my god, no! He… I… It’s really complicated.” She touched his face gently, “Okay. That’s all I wanted to know. We are here for you Bruce. You’re like a son to us. Just tell us whenever you’re ready.” He felt a weight on his chest, it felt like it was pushing all the air out of him. He asked if she needed a hand and she shook her head, “Go upstairs and wash up before bed. There’s a few weeks left of summer. Enjoy it!”

 

Bruce trudged upstairs to Clark’s room. Clark had already pulled out a t-shirt and shorts and had a towel slung over his shoulder. He looked over Bruce as he came in and frowned, “Your heart sounds a little slower. Are you okay?” Bruce threw himself on the bed and buried his face in the pillow. He turned his head a little and whispered, “I’m not okay, but I’ll get better.” Clark nodded and kissed him on the top of his head. He felt Bruce’s hair, and then slid his hand down to his back. He started rubbing his back, “I’m going to take a shower. Then we’re going on a trip.” Bruce nodded. Clark kissed him again and then went to take a shower. Bruce thought about everything that had happened the past few days. The dinner was the last time he had Alfred and Nihin. That night she gave Bruce a token, a small gold coin with a picture of a dragon in it. She said it was a “favor”. She said if he absolutely needed anything, no matter how big, he could use this coin. When he held it in his hand, she kissed his forehead and told him to practice his forms every day. He swore he would and he asked who he would give the coin to for the favor. She laughed and simply said he’ll find out but only when he needs to use it. He took the coin out of his pocket, gently twiddling it between his fingers when he heard a tapping on the window. He stood up and looked out the window, but all he could see was the pitch black darkness outside.

 

He pocketed the coin again and started on his forms. Legs shoulder width, knees slightly bent, head up, elbows tucked in. He practiced his deflects, then his sweeps, his low kicks, his punches. Martha knocked on the door after a few minutes and peered in, “Hello dear, I’m not sure what you’re up to in here. But it’s a bit of a racket, aren’t you tired?” Bruce quickly stood up straight. Martha opened up the door a bit more, “Are you exercising? I know Alfred told me you did boxing for a bit. You practicing?” Bruce nodded, “Yeah, just practicing some boxing. I’ll do it downstairs.” Martha shook her head, and she put her hands on his shoulders, “Why don’t you take a day off and just relax huh? You went through a lot. Just… relax.” Bruce saw the concern written on her face. He smiled broadly, “Thanks Ms. Kent. I’ll give it a rest tonight.” She smiled and she walked out. He dug in his suitcase and found a pair of black shoes with soft soles. He used them to train at the mansion without Alfred noticing. He slipped them on and continued his forms, wondering how much Clark could hear. He wondered if he would ever get quiet enough to sneak up on Clark. Nihin always taught him to have a goal in mind, something to work towards, without one people grow stagnant very quickly. He was in the Lotus form, a stance designed to be paired with a spear, when he heard the water stop. He quickly slipped off his shoes and sat on the bed. Clark came in after a couple of minutes with a towel on his head and a pair of pajama pants on, “What were you doing creaking around in here? My mom said you were exercising?” Bruce stood up and grabbed his clothes and towel for a shower, he shrugged, “I was just trying to work off some nerves.” Clark pinched his side gently and Bruce giggled, “Do I make you nervous?”

 

Clark leaned down and gently kissed him on the cheek. Then another, edging closer to his lips. Just as he reached his lips, Bruce whispered, “A little bit.” Clark grinned. He kissed him, sliding his arms around the smaller boy’s frame. Bruce felt warm in his body, but hot in his face. He pulled away and just looked at Clark’s face before kissing him again, this time harder. Clark could hear Bruce’s heart beating so hard, he could hear his own heartbeat a little faster and harder. It all mingled in his ears. He could hear the sound of the crows outside, the wind blowing through the fields, the crickets, the children crying in his neighbors’ house. But all of it was drowned out. He could hear Bruce. That was all that he wanted to listen to. Bruce pulled away and laughed into Clark’s chest, “I have to shower. Then you have that amazing thing to show me remember?” He let go of Clark and headed to the bathroom. As he closed the bedroom door behind him, Clark felt a heat in his stomach, it was burning him alive and it was spreading into his limbs. He wondered if he would ever love anyone as much as he loved Bruce. He wiped a tear from his face and laughed to himself about how cheesy he was to cry at the thought of his friend. The thing that took him out of his thoughts was the sound of a tapping. Three times. Another three. Another three. Then the fluttering of wings. He narrowed his eyes and peered outside. All he saw was a small murder of crows perched in various places.

 

When Bruce got out of the shower, Clark had him change into jeans and a soft gray shirt. Clark had put on a blue button up and jeans with a pair of boots. He opened the window and stuck one leg out, then turned and held his arms out like waiting for a baby, “Come on Bruce. I’ll carry you.”

“You’re going to _jump_ with me in your arms? Won’t I get hurt?” Clark gestured for him to come over, “Well we can’t go out the front door, my parents will hear the door. I can do this, you’ll be okay. Promise.” Bruce came over and put his arms around Clark’s neck. Clark grabbed behind his knees and dropped. They landed quietly, which Bruce thought odd considering two people from the second floor should make a thud. Clark put his friend down and started to lead him to the barn, “It’s weird.”

“What is?” Bruce was admittedly a bit scared.

“There’s a flock of crows out there but they didn’t fly away when we landed.”

“A murder.” Clark whipped around to look at his friend who bumped into him in the darkness. “A _what_?!” Now Clark was a bit unsettled. Bruce grabbed his sleeve, “A flock of crows is called a murder Clark. Maybe you landed too soft. You landed weird.” Clark pulled Bruce close, “I tried to land softly. I discover if I really think hard I can do that from some high places.” Bruce could hear Clark beaming in the darkness.

 

Bruce looked from the ship to Clark and back at the ship, “You’re an _alien_? Like… an _alien_? You came… in this… from another planet?” Clark nodded excitedly. Bruce sat down on a crate, “I thought you were magic.”

“Me too! We read all these books on it, but come to find out I’m just-”

“Are you the last? Of your kind?” The joy drained from Clark’s face. He pursed his lips, then nodded. “Are all of your people… like you? This strong, this… everything?” Clark shrugged. He sat down next to Bruce and put an arm around them. “What do you think?” He asked weakly. Bruce huffed, “I think we have a lot to research this summer. Who else knows?”

“My parents. That’s it. I don’t think the government does. I don’t think they should. I’m scared they’ll… take me away.” Bruce nodded. He reached a hand out, “Can I touch it? Will it kill me?”

“It didn’t kill my parents.” Bruce ran his hand over the ship and as he did Clark watched him intently. He could hear every biological process going on inside of Bruce and he was aware of the fact that Bruce was afraid, but not nearly as much as he imagined. Bruce spent most of the night looking at the ship while Clark dozed off on various crates. During one point when he drifted off he dreamt of crows covering his house, breaking every window, every door, flooding his home. He held a yelp and he jumped up and saw Bruce looking at him with wide eyes, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell. I saw a bat.” He sat up, “It’s okay. How long was I out?”

Bruce sat next to him, “Not long, maybe half an hour. You wanna go to bed? I could sleep I guess.”

“How are you not tired?” Clark wiped the sleep from his eyes. Bruce laughed, “I used to keep late hours at the mansion.” He got up and held out a hand, “Come on. Let’s go to bed.” Clark closed the door and led him back to his window where he leapt deftly up and Clark plopped on his bed. Bruce was unrolling the sleeping bag when Clark pulled on the back of his shirt, “Sleep up here silly. With me.”

“Are you joking? Your parents would _kill_ me if they caught me doing that. Absolutely not.” He laid out on the floor and the two quickly fell asleep.

 

The next morning Bruce woke up before Clark and went downstairs to find Martha making breakfast, scrambled eggs and biscuits. He helped her and they chatted about how he slept and how he’s adjusting. He asked if he could go outside for some exercise while she finished up and she agreed. He quickly went out and walked around, scouting out the ideal place for him to practice his forms daily. It was a warm sunny morning, and the air there was light and fresh. He wondered if he could grow to like the country life. He made his way to a scarecrow at the edge of the field, covered in crows. They all seemed to look at him as he walked up, “I wonder what you’re thinking.” He said aloud. They all cawed and screeched and it startled him so badly he took a step back and walked off quickly. One flew off and Bruce continued his search, glancing over his shoulder every now and then. Clark eventually woke and came down to join him. He invited his friend to help with chores and they started their first full day together. It took everything in Clark to hide his joy knowing that Bruce was still adjusting. He touched his arm while showing him how to milk a cow and teased him when they were gathering eggs and feeding chickens. He knew that Bruce was here due to misfortune, but he couldn’t help himself. He snuck kisses around the farm and a crow with a red tip on his beak sat perched, immovable on the top of the Kent farmhouse.

 

A distinguished man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes came into the seedy hotel called the Rolling Fields. The clerk, a young man with bad acne, was lazily reading a fairly risqué trade magazine when the man tapped gently on the glass. He got up and practically jumped up, “Hello sir, what can I do fer ya’?”

“I’d like a room.”

“Surely. How long you’ll be staying with us sir?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m here on business. I’ll be paying in cash.” The clerk’s hands shook as he cleared the desk of wrappers and cards to look for the sign-in book. He pulled it out and opened it to a fresh page while he turned and grabbed a key, “You look like a fine sir. I’ll give you our nicest room! It’s on the second floor.” He watched as the man scribbled down a name in an elegant cursive. The man wore white gloves and looked about forty years in age. He held a top hat and a suitcase in one hand. His blue eyes met the young mans and he smiled, “Why thank you my boy. I couldn’t be happier to hear that. By the way, how much do I owe you?” The clerk turned the book around and squinted as he read the man’s name, “It’ll be ten dollars a night mister… I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to say this.” The man winked at him, “Zatara. Greatest magician alive.”


	9. Being Unique is Better Than Being Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark grows up and Bruce gets adjusted to life on the farm. Zatara is in town, but what does that entail and what brought him to Smallville?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack! I finally returned from Thailand with a tan and a broken rib! Hahaha! It was good getting out of the country for a while. I've lived in Asia for a while now, but I haven't traveled it as much as I'd like due to work. That's not important. What's important is that I finally have a new chapter out! Yay! And expect a proper update schedule again! Super yay! Also also, I'm toying with the idea of having some artwork done for some of the chapters and posting it somewhere, but who knows? Thanks always for the reads! I look forward to your comments and feedback, pleeeease share cause I desperately need validation from strangers and I hope you enjoy!

_My dear Martha and I got into a row like we’ve never had before. I told her that we have to leave the Al Ghul’s. I brought up how she put us all in danger with her needless clinging to R’as and his Faustian gifts. She said that I didn’t understand how hard it was for a mother to raise a child by herself! I am here! It is not my fault I am busy running the company that puts food on the table. We want for nothing because I work so hard! R’as should not have that honor while I live! She screamed at me and called me everything but a child of God. She cried and told me I was cruel to take everything away from her and Bruce. She brought up how Bruce and Thalia were supposed to grow up together. I brought up how we cannot allow Bruce to grow up in some medieval nightmare where he is some prince to be wedded off because R’as wants it. She said that I was being selfish, that I was thinking of my ego and not our son. I admit I lost my temper and yelled back. She threw a cup at me and I saw that she was clearly hysterical. I dragged her into the guest room and locked the room. I told her she would come out when she could calm down._

_It took an hour, but eventually she did. We were able to talk and she came around. We agreed we had to sever our ties with R’as and we prepared for a fight. I invited him to our home through our Matron and a week later he came. I talked to him and explained I did not want his presence in our life. We wished to live as normal people with normal lives. He looked serious and then just laughed. He asked me if I knew what that meant. How could I be normal when I already control so much? I told him that rich people are normal too, and he laughed again. He agreed to let us live our “normal” dreams out for a year and he would return. I told him that wouldn’t be necessary. He asked me to give him five years to take everything out of Gotham. He explained he had much invested there and if we wanted normalcy, everything he has needs to be moved. Bruce was still small, and I asked for three years. As long as my son does not remember this man as having done everything for us. But little did I know, time meant nothing to R’as. His presence was too deep in this house and this city. He had already poisoned by wife against me. This was to be no easily won war._

Clark had always been strong as far as he could remember. He could recall one time when he was a small child and he threw a tantrum in a store. He was upset that she didn’t buy him the toy truck that he saw on the shelf. He was no older than three and he remembers his face feeling hot and the tears sprang to his face. He could hear every heartbeat around him go up, but to his young ears, it just sounded like a raucous symphony that had no sheet music and was just intent on chaos. He covered his ears and he moaned. Martha’s heart was the loudest, it was the closest. She knew this was about to be bad. She tried to bring him in the afternoon when all the other housewives were busy, but today there were at least ten people in the store, far too many for Clark. His tears fell fast and he was wailing like a banshee. He started stomping his small feet, cracking the ground beneath him. She tried to bargain, “Clark, honey please, calm down.” Clark cried hard and couldn’t stop. He could not contain himself and like any child he couldn’t stop. She tried to stop him from flailing. He thrashed his arms and knocked her down, causing her to slide across the floor. She broke her arm that day. He fell down crying and cracked the floor further. He had caused a couple hundred dollars’ worth of damage. Martha took odd jobs cleaning and cooking to help her husband pay for the repairs. She cried herself to sleep for a week and woke from nightmares in a cold sweat. She kept dreaming that Clark grew up into a monster with black skin and red eyes that consumed everything in its path.

 

Clark remembered that time vividly, as Kryptonian brains could recall memories that were formed from a year in age nearly as well as those formed a week ago. He remembered feeling hurt that he didn’t get the toy, and confused that his mother who would dote on him suddenly spent less time with him to work. He didn’t understand why at the time. He could recall the first time he discovered his invulnerability. He was seven and he was playing with a ball. He had no friends due to his parents’ homeschooling him. They worried about sending him to a regular school and so Martha threw herself into studying so that she could be a decent teacher to her son. He was tossing the ball up and catching it. He wore ear muffs despite it being summer, but it still did little to slow the overwhelming cacophony of the world. He was learning to do a better job of picking up individual sounds, hearing something and honing in as much as he could. During summer with all the bugs buzzing around it was hard for him to be able to pick out something as innocuous as his mom calling him inside for lunch.

 

He glanced around to look for his parents. His mother was preparing lunch and his father was harvesting in the fields. When he when he saw they weren’t around he cocked his arm back and threw the ball straight up into the sky. It quickly became a small dot and Clark heard a small squawk. He had struck a bird! He looked up and saw a small dot careening towards the ground. He ran after it, hoping to catch it before it hit the ground. A cloud of dust trailed behind him as he ran faster than most cars. He managed to get under the sparrow, leaping twenty odd feet in the air to catch it. He drifted down slowly, like a snowflake. He was looking at the busted wings of the bird, focusing on the last few wheezing whistling breaths in its chest. He felt his face get hot and he held the bird as gently as he could in his hands as he brought it to his chest. He crouched down and just intently listened as its small heartbeat faded away into nothing. He was so focused on the heartbeat in the chaos of the world that he didn’t hear the wheat combine behind him. He turned around and saw the hulking machine coming towards him and closed his eyes. He felt something touch his skin, felt his clothes rip apart and the warm metal was all around him. Then there was darkness. Then there was sound. Muffled and frantic. It was saying something. Was it his name? He thought he heard crying and his mother’s name. He needed to get out. He got on his knees and started crawling, with one hand still wrapped around the sparrow. He pushed against rubble and sharp metal, pushing it back and bending it, the way children push back twigs when they crawl through bushes. He felt his clothes getting snagged as he went along and he realized he lost his earmuffs. He began to feel his heart speed up, he stopped and he curled up. His hands grew sweaty, and his chest felt tight. He wanted to cry, and he felt like something was wrong, but he knew he was technically fine. All the noises of the world flowed into his ears and he cried. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard something in the cacophony. It was his mother’s voice, “ _afhue_ _Crying_ _wionm_.” He heard that word in there. All he had to do was focus. “I'm telling you I heard…” He began to self-soothe, calming himself down, trying to push back the wave of nausea he felt. He kept crawling towards the noise, emerging into the light. He came out and stood up, brushing the dust and dirt from his clothes. He remembered the bird in his hand and he felt the guilt seep into his bones as he gingerly held his hand out and opened it to reveal the sparrow. He started to cry, “I’m sorry, I hit it with a ball, it was an accident!” He looked at his parents who wore masks of terror that he’d never seen before. He was sure it was because of the bird and he broke down wailing, completely oblivious to the torn apart combine, smoking and wrecked from the bottom up.

 

Since then Clark was acutely aware of the fear his parents would sometimes have of him. He learned that you could fear someone and still love them. He worked harder than ever before on focusing and controlling his powers. He learned to listen harder and to throw softer. His parents concern was the boundary line of where his powers could go. When he made a friend he tried not to touch them often, worried that a playful nudge in the ribs would turn into a fracture. Then he met Bruce. Bruce was grieving that day, a small kid in a field, miserable and dark. He saw him wander off and when he walked after him to warn him against it, Alfred said something first. He got closer to the field and he smelled something he’d never smelled before. It was sweeter then chocolate, but a little tart. He could practically taste it on his tongue, a flavor a little salty but better than any home cooked meal. He didn’t know what to do. He had never encountered this before. So he stayed outside the field. He wanted Bruce out there with him, but he didn’t know how to call him out. When they rode in the truck together Clark could get the full scent, and it burned inside of him. It made his heart pound in his chest and his stomach hurt. His mouth would salivate and he would feel a little dizzy. He didn’t even attempt to hide his abilities from Bruce. He didn’t want to. He didn’t need to. He knew he wouldn’t tell, he could feel it. When Bruce first saw his abilities, Clark saw the pure curiosity, the relentless need to know more. He had never cherished a look from someone so much in his life.

 

And so, Clark found himself wondering about if his attraction to Bruce was normal. Men who liked men were not treated well in Kansas and even his kind-hearted father would visibly wrinkle his nose in disgust when he caught a glimpse of two men hugging in an alley on the way to a town Christmas party. It worried him, but not deeply as he realized his attractions when Bruce wasn’t around. Pretty young women his age (sometimes older) would go strolling by and Clark would enjoy their soft round faces and curved hips. Their full lips that would pout or turn up into a smile and their lovely hair that smelled like strawberries or just simple clean soap. He would go on to befriend a couple of girls his age in town. He walked one home and she gave him a peck on the cheek. He blushed deeply but her brother caught her and they weren’t allowed to hang out again. He loved the fact that he got a kiss. He loved wooing her to earn it. But, it wasn’t the same as the time he spent with Bruce. Bruce made him feel complete and interesting. He would look at men at times, to try to find in their faces and strong jawlines the things he felt with Bruce, but nothing would resonate. He couldn’t find the physique of their bodies appealing no matter what he tried. Physically, no man felt like Bruce to him. Emotionally, no woman felt like Bruce. So he would wait. Pass the time with friends and flirtation until summer, when everything made sense to him again.

 

Bruce was growing taller, his physique was becoming leaner, but his shoulders were starting to become a little broader. He was still smaller than Clark however, who towered a full head and a half over him. He noticed that Bruce never really grew in facial hair, though Clark had a few chin hairs making an appearance. His black hair was straighter then Bruce’s who had thick hair, just a little wavy. Sometimes, he would just look at Bruce, look _through_ him, watch his cells multiply and die and wonder if Bruce knew what he was doing. He probably did, he never met someone so perceptive. Now that Bruce was staying with his family, Clark was determined to enjoy every second he could. They weren’t exchanging letters, he was just _here_ with him.  When he was in the shower that first day, he could hear Bruce’s footsteps. Rhythmic, like a dance. He imagined what Bruce looked like underneath all the pristine high end clothing and well-kept hair. What he looked like freshly disheveled with dirt on his face from working, like all the other farm boys. He couldn’t get the image out of his head and his hand slid downwards. He tuned out everything else except for the sound of Bruce’s controlled breathing. He didn’t know what he was doing but he didn’t care. Later that night when he held Bruce in his arms as they leapt out of the window, he couldn’t help but think of that sparrow. He held Bruce close while acutely aware of the pressure he used. The next day when they were doing chores Clark couldn’t hold in his joy, as he kissed Bruce every chance he got on the cheek. He tried for a kiss on the lips but Bruce laughed as he pushed him away. Clark Kent wondered if he would ever feel this happy again.

 

When it was lunchtime the boys came inside and Clark had to struggle to hold in his laughter as he was pulling hay from Bruce’s hair. Bruce was covered in mud and dirt and clearly upset. Martha was laying plates on the table when she gasped, “What the devil happened to you?!” Bruce pouted a little, “Mrs. Kent. No disrespect ma’am, but I don’t think I like farms.”

 

Geovanni Zatara wolfed down the eggs and bacon before taking a deep sip of orange juice. He wiped his mouth, “Well, he’s having a miserable run of this farm thing so far. I’ve got ravens everywhere to have eyes on him in as many places as once, but so far, the only odd thing is his buddy, like you said.” The waitress came over and refilled his orange juice before holding the pitcher up to silently ask Nihin if she’d like more. She shook her head and gently asked for a coffee instead. After the waitress left, Nihin shifted in her seat, “These things are so uncomfortable. His friend? Is he a demon? A wizard?” Zatara wiped his mouth, then cut his biscuit in half and started smothering it in jelly. He shook his head, “None of the above. Damn these biscuits are awfully good. This town is awful tiny but they make good breakfast. Anyways, he’s not magic. At all. I would’ve sensed it when I showed up at the house. Though, I think he could… I dunno… _feel_ me. It was like he knew I was there, but not really. Like when someone stares at you from across a room. Very odd. The kid say anything else about his _gifts_? Maybe where they come from. This is gonna be difficult to do if he can perceive me, and even worse if I don’t know how to fight him if I need to.” Nihin sighed and the waitress came back with a piping hot black cup of coffee. She set it on the table, smiled at the woman and left. Nihin pushed stray hair out of her face, “No. He said his friend has super hearing and is strong. We need to figure out just _how_ strong and _how_ super. I need to get Bruce back to Gotham before R’as or his Matron finds out.” Zatara nodded, “Agreed my dear. My glamour can only hold so long, though it’ll be leagues easier to just let me charm the butler on over-”

“Don’t call him that. His name is Alfred.”

“Whoa! A bit of a soft spot dear? Didn’t think I’d ever see the day when you would go soft for someone. Perhaps he caught your fancy a bit? You see in him a strong paternal need to protect the boy and it weakens you a bit?” Geovanni munched on his biscuit thoughtfully while looking out the window.

“Shut up. Just… keep an eye on Bruce. I have to have time to think. I need time to make an exit plan. What if the parents are more powerful than his friend? We don’t have the manpower to bring the whole family down.” She covered her face with her hands and closed her eyes. Geovanni looked at her carefully. When she sent her message to him she was so frantic that it scared him. He’d never seen her that way about anything or anyone in all the time he’s known her. He recalled that he didn’t see her much after R’as took her son, but now, seeing her unhinged at having lost a child a second time, broke his heart. He knew he had to help, despite what R’as had done to the magic community. She was known for hiding wizards like him from the Canus of the Dragon, the witch killers. R’as does not suffer great powers that could rival him to stay free for long. You are either with him or against him, and no wizard would fear a would-be lich tyrant. Many magic users had seen worse. Until R’as organized himself.

 

He gulped down some orange juice, “Don’t worry dear. Everyone will be charmed for quite a while and I put the best hexes and protections on that house. No mere mortal will perceive it enough to dare go near it. Alfred will be safe. Bruce will be safe. The family likes him. The kid _obsesses_ over him. He’s safe for now. We’ll figure this out.” Nihin started sobbing. She felt everything inside her just need to spill out, years of crushed down sadness and anger flowing out in soft sobs that she couldn’t stop. She wiped her face, “I’m sorry. I’ve been crying a lot lately. I’ve gotten soft, like you said. I just… I can’t lose my son a second time. I don’t want to lose him and I don’t want to lose Alfred.” Geovanni took her hand with his right, and with his left he muttered, “Erongi” and waved his left, causing the gawking customers in the diner to calmly go back to their meals. He smiled softly and rubbed her hand, “You’re not losing anyone. I won’t let you.”

_My dear Martha and I got into a row like we’ve never had before. I told her that we have to leave the Al Ghul’s. I brought up how she put us all in danger with her needless clinging to R’as and his Faustian gifts. She said that I didn’t understand how hard it was for a mother to raise a child by herself! I am here! It is not my fault I am busy running the company that puts food on the table. We want for nothing because I work so hard! R’as should not have that honor while I live! She screamed at me and called me everything but a child of God. She cried and told me I was cruel to take everything away from her and Bruce. She brought up how Bruce and Thalia were supposed to grow up together. I brought up how we cannot allow Bruce to grow up in some medieval nightmare where he is some prince to be wedded off because R’as wants it. She said that I was being selfish, that I was thinking of my ego and not our son. I admit I lost my temper and yelled back. She threw a cup at me and I saw that she was clearly hysterical. I dragged her into the guest room and locked the room. I told her she would come out when she could calm down._

_It took an hour, but eventually she did. We were able to talk and she came around. We agreed we had to sever our ties with R’as and we prepared for a fight. I invited him to our home through our Matron and a week later he came. I talked to him and explained I did not want his presence in our life. We wished to live as normal people with normal lives. He looked serious and then just laughed. He asked me if I knew what that meant. How could I be normal when I already control so much? I told him that rich people are normal too, and he laughed again. He agreed to let us live our “normal” dreams out for a year and he would return. I told him that wouldn’t be necessary. He asked me to give him five years to take everything out of Gotham. He explained he had much invested there and if we wanted normalcy, everything he has needs to be moved. Bruce was still small, and I asked for three years. As long as my son does not remember this man as having done everything for us. But little did I know, time meant nothing to R’as. His presence was too deep in this house and this city. He had already poisoned by wife against me. This was to be no easily won war._

Clark had always been strong as far as he could remember. He could recall one time when he was a small child and he threw a tantrum in a store. He was upset that she didn’t buy him the toy truck that he saw on the shelf. He was no older than three and he remembers his face feeling hot and the tears sprang to his face. He could hear every heartbeat around him go up, but to his young ears, it just sounded like a raucous symphony that had no sheet music and was just intent on chaos. He covered his ears and he moaned. Martha’s heart was the loudest, it was the closest. She knew this was about to be bad. She tried to bring him in the afternoon when all the other housewives were busy, but today there were at least ten people in the store, far too many for Clark. His tears fell fast and he was wailing like a banshee. He started stomping his small feet, cracking the ground beneath him. She tried to bargain, “Clark, honey please, calm down.” Clark cried hard and couldn’t stop. He could not contain himself and like any child he couldn’t stop. She tried to stop him from flailing. He thrashed his arms and knocked her down, causing her to slide across the floor. She broke her arm that day. He fell down crying and cracked the floor further. He had caused a couple hundred dollars’ worth of damage. Martha took odd jobs cleaning and cooking to help her husband pay for the repairs. She cried herself to sleep for a week and woke from nightmares in a cold sweat. She kept dreaming that Clark grew up into a monster with black skin and red eyes that consumed everything in its path.

 

Clark remembered that time vividly, as Kryptonian brains could recall memories that were formed from a year in age nearly as well as those formed a week ago. He remembered feeling hurt that he didn’t get the toy, and confused that his mother who would dote on him suddenly spent less time with him to work. He didn’t understand why at the time. He could recall the first time he discovered his invulnerability. He was seven and he was playing with a ball. He had no friends due to his parents’ homeschooling him. They worried about sending him to a regular school and so Martha threw herself into studying so that she could be a decent teacher to her son. He was tossing the ball up and catching it. He wore ear muffs despite it being summer, but it still did little to slow the overwhelming cacophony of the world. He was learning to do a better job of picking up individual sounds, hearing something and honing in as much as he could. During summer with all the bugs buzzing around it was hard for him to be able to pick out something as innocuous as his mom calling him inside for lunch.

 

He glanced around to look for his parents. His mother was preparing lunch and his father was harvesting in the fields. When he when he saw they weren’t around he cocked his arm back and threw the ball straight up into the sky. It quickly became a small dot and Clark heard a small squawk. He had struck a bird! He looked up and saw a small dot careening towards the ground. He ran after it, hoping to catch it before it hit the ground. A cloud of dust trailed behind him as he ran faster than most cars. He managed to get under the sparrow, leaping twenty odd feet in the air to catch it. He drifted down slowly, like a snowflake. He was looking at the busted wings of the bird, focusing on the last few wheezing whistling breaths in its chest. He felt his face get hot and he held the bird as gently as he could in his hands as he brought it to his chest. He crouched down and just intently listened as its small heartbeat faded away into nothing. He was so focused on the heartbeat in the chaos of the world that he didn’t hear the wheat combine behind him. He turned around and saw the hulking machine coming towards him and closed his eyes. He felt something touch his skin, felt his clothes rip apart and the warm metal was all around him. Then there was darkness. Then there was sound. Muffled and frantic. It was saying something. Was it his name? He thought he heard crying and his mother’s name. He needed to get out. He got on his knees and started crawling, with one hand still wrapped around the sparrow. He pushed against rubble and sharp metal, pushing it back and bending it, the way children push back twigs when they crawl through bushes. He felt his clothes getting snagged as he went along and he realized he lost his earmuffs. He began to feel his heart speed up, he stopped and he curled up. His hands grew sweaty, and his chest felt tight. He wanted to cry, and he felt like something was wrong, but he knew he was technically fine. All the noises of the world flowed into his ears and he cried. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard something in the cacophony. It was his mother’s voice, “ _afhue_ _Crying_ _wionm_.” He heard that word in there. All he had to do was focus. “I'm telling you I heard…” He began to self-soothe, calming himself down, trying to push back the wave of nausea he felt. He kept crawling towards the noise, emerging into the light. He came out and stood up, brushing the dust and dirt from his clothes. He remembered the bird in his hand and he felt the guilt seep into his bones as he gingerly held his hand out and opened it to reveal the sparrow. He started to cry, “I’m sorry, I hit it with a ball, it was an accident!” He looked at his parents who wore masks of terror that he’d never seen before. He was sure it was because of the bird and he broke down wailing, completely oblivious to the torn apart combine, smoking and wrecked from the bottom up.

 

Since then Clark was acutely aware of the fear his parents would sometimes have of him. He learned that you could fear someone and still love them. He worked harder than ever before on focusing and controlling his powers. He learned to listen harder and to throw softer. His parents concern was the boundary line of where his powers could go. When he made a friend he tried not to touch them often, worried that a playful nudge in the ribs would turn into a fracture. Then he met Bruce. Bruce was grieving that day, a small kid in a field, miserable and dark. He saw him wander off and when he walked after him to warn him against it, Alfred said something first. He got closer to the field and he smelled something he’d never smelled before. It was sweeter then chocolate, but a little tart. He could practically taste it on his tongue, a flavor a little salty but better than any home cooked meal. He didn’t know what to do. He had never encountered this before. So he stayed outside the field. He wanted Bruce out there with him, but he didn’t know how to call him out. When they rode in the truck together Clark could get the full scent, and it burned inside of him. It made his heart pound in his chest and his stomach hurt. His mouth would salivate and he would feel a little dizzy. He didn’t even attempt to hide his abilities from Bruce. He didn’t want to. He didn’t need to. He knew he wouldn’t tell, he could feel it. When Bruce first saw his abilities, Clark saw the pure curiosity, the relentless need to know more. He had never cherished a look from someone so much in his life.

 

And so, Clark found himself wondering about if his attraction to Bruce was normal. Men who liked men were not treated well in Kansas and even his kind-hearted father would visibly wrinkle his nose in disgust when he caught a glimpse of two men hugging in an alley on the way to a town Christmas party. It worried him, but not deeply as he realized his attractions when Bruce wasn’t around. Pretty young women his age (sometimes older) would go strolling by and Clark would enjoy their soft round faces and curved hips. Their full lips that would pout or turn up into a smile and their lovely hair that smelled like strawberries or just simple clean soap. He would go on to befriend a couple of girls his age in town. He walked one home and she gave him a peck on the cheek. He blushed deeply but her brother caught her and they weren’t allowed to hang out again. He loved the fact that he got a kiss. He loved wooing her to earn it. But, it wasn’t the same as the time he spent with Bruce. Bruce made him feel complete and interesting. He would look at men at times, to try to find in their faces and strong jawlines the things he felt with Bruce, but nothing would resonate. He couldn’t find the physique of their bodies appealing no matter what he tried. Physically, no man felt like Bruce to him. Emotionally, no woman felt like Bruce. So he would wait. Pass the time with friends and flirtation until summer, when everything made sense to him again.

 

Bruce was growing taller, his physique was becoming leaner, but his shoulders were starting to become a little broader. He was still smaller than Clark however, who towered a full head and a half over him. He noticed that Bruce never really grew in facial hair, though Clark had a few chin hairs making an appearance. His black hair was straighter then Bruce’s who had thick hair, just a little wavy. Sometimes, he would just look at Bruce, look _through_ him, watch his cells multiply and die and wonder if Bruce knew what he was doing. He probably did, he never met someone so perceptive. Now that Bruce was staying with his family, Clark was determined to enjoy every second he could. They weren’t exchanging letters, he was just _here_ with him.  When he was in the shower that first day, he could hear Bruce’s footsteps. Rhythmic, like a dance. He imagined what Bruce looked like underneath all the pristine high end clothing and well-kept hair. What he looked like freshly disheveled with dirt on his face from working, like all the other farm boys. He couldn’t get the image out of his head and his hand slid downwards. He tuned out everything else except for the sound of Bruce’s controlled breathing. He didn’t know what he was doing but he didn’t care. Later that night when he held Bruce in his arms as they leapt out of the window, he couldn’t help but think of that sparrow. He held Bruce close while acutely aware of the pressure he used. The next day when they were doing chores Clark couldn’t hold in his joy, as he kissed Bruce every chance he got on the cheek. He tried for a kiss on the lips but Bruce laughed as he pushed him away. Clark Kent wondered if he would ever feel this happy again.

 

When it was lunchtime the boys came inside and Clark had to struggle to hold in his laughter as he was pulling hay from Bruce’s hair. Bruce was covered in mud and dirt and clearly upset. Martha was laying plates on the table when she gasped, “What the devil happened to you?!” Bruce pouted a little, “Mrs. Kent. No disrespect ma’am, but I don’t think I like farms.”

 

Geovanni Zatara wolfed down the eggs and bacon before taking a deep sip of orange juice. He wiped his mouth, “Well, he’s having a miserable run of this farm thing so far. I’ve got ravens everywhere to have eyes on him in as many places as once, but so far, the only odd thing is his buddy, like you said.” The waitress came over and refilled his orange juice before holding the pitcher up to silently ask Nihin if she’d like more. She shook her head and gently asked for a coffee instead. After the waitress left, Nihin shifted in her seat, “These things are so uncomfortable. His friend? Is he a demon? A wizard?” Zatara wiped his mouth, then cut his biscuit in half and started smothering it in jelly. He shook his head, “None of the above. Damn these biscuits are awfully good. This town is awful tiny but they make good breakfast. Anyways, he’s not magic. At all. I would’ve sensed it when I showed up at the house. Though, I think he could… I dunno… _feel_ me. It was like he knew I was there, but not really. Like when someone stares at you from across a room. Very odd. The kid say anything else about his _gifts_? Maybe where they come from. This is gonna be difficult to do if he can perceive me, and even worse if I don’t know how to fight him if I need to.” Nihin sighed and the waitress came back with a piping hot black cup of coffee. She set it on the table, smiled at the woman and left. Nihin pushed stray hair out of her face, “No. He said his friend has super hearing and is strong. We need to figure out just _how_ strong and _how_ super. I need to get Bruce back to Gotham before R’as or his Matron finds out.” Zatara nodded, “Agreed my dear. My glamour can only hold so long, though it’ll be leagues easier to just let me charm the butler on over-”

“Don’t call him that. His name is Alfred.”

“Whoa! A bit of a soft spot dear? Didn’t think I’d ever see the day when you would go soft for someone. Perhaps he caught your fancy a bit? You see in him a strong paternal need to protect the boy and it weakens you a bit?” Geovanni munched on his biscuit thoughtfully while looking out the window.

“Shut up. Just… keep an eye on Bruce. I have to have time to think. I need time to make an exit plan. What if the parents are more powerful than his friend? We don’t have the manpower to bring the whole family down.” She covered her face with her hands and closed her eyes. Geovanni looked at her carefully. When she sent her message to him she was so frantic that it scared him. He’d never seen her that way about anything or anyone in all the time he’s known her. He recalled that he didn’t see her much after R’as took her son, but now, seeing her unhinged at having lost a child a second time, broke his heart. He knew he had to help, despite what R’as had done to the magic community. She was known for hiding wizards like him from the Canus of the Dragon, the witch killers. R’as does not suffer great powers that could rival him to stay free for long. You are either with him or against him, and no wizard would fear a would-be lich tyrant. Many magic users had seen worse. Until R’as organized himself.

 

He gulped down some orange juice, “Don’t worry dear. Everyone will be charmed for quite a while and I put the best hexes and protections on that house. No mere mortal will perceive it enough to dare go near it. Alfred will be safe. Bruce will be safe. The family likes him. The kid _obsesses_ over him. He’s safe for now. We’ll figure this out.” Nihin started sobbing. She felt everything inside her just need to spill out, years of crushed down sadness and anger flowing out in soft sobs that she couldn’t stop. She wiped her face, “I’m sorry. I’ve been crying a lot lately. I’ve gotten soft, like you said. I just… I can’t lose my son a second time. I don’t want to lose him and I don’t want to lose Alfred.” Geovanni took her hand with his right, and with his left he muttered, “Erongi” and waved his left, causing the gawking customers in the diner to calmly go back to their meals. He smiled softly and rubbed her hand, “You’re not losing anyone. I won’t let you.”


	10. A mom's hug lasts long after she let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing quite like love, especially a mother's love. But when a mother wants her child back, she will stop at nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY MOLY EVERYONE! Sorry for the wait, but I have great news! My site should be up and running soon, and on top of it, I've been asked by Onyx Games to write a story for a dating game!!! I'm very excited, but it certainly throws off my writing schedule, cause I also write for a cartoon series, so now it's pretty much 50 hours a week of writingggg.... Enough shameless plugs, thanks for the wait, and ! hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> P.S. Sorry for any errors in it, I actually didn't proofread this one...

There were very few things Bruce ever struggled with. He was top of his class, picked up languages like it was nothing, math was a breeze. But he could not get Gussy the chicken to stop pecking him when he fed the hens. He hated that bird. She would come over and peck his legs and chase after him as he threw the feed on the ground. He wasn’t scared of her, he just didn’t want to be near her. He sat on a crate by the large brown barn looking at his little wounds and cursing the fowl under his breath. A crow cawed loudly above him and Bruce looked up to see the bird staring right at him. He noticed the red at the tip of its beak and squinted to get a better look. The bird fluttered its wings some and Bruce caught the sight of a few red feathers underneath. Clark came strolling over, “How are the chores coming along?” Bruce and the bird stared at each other as he answered, “Good. Good. Is that bird weird to you?” Clark looked up at it and squinted, “It _is_ weird. There’s something… wrong with it.”

“Is it sick?”

“No. I… it’s insides. I can see something _glowing_ inside of it. Like a little light. I don’t know. I’m gonna catch it.” Clark took a quick glance at the height, it was sitting on the corner of the roof that angled downwards. Bruce shook his head, “You’re strong Clark, but that’s like, twenty, twenty five feet. Can you jump that?”

“Sure… I think. I dunno. I know I can make it to my room from the ground and that’s about ten or fifteen. Just gotta bend my knees a little.” Clark squatted a little lower and felt himself building the power in his legs. He took a deep breath and counted to himself, and once he reached three he leapt. He shot past the startled crow and realized he was far above the barn, then falling quickly. He flailed his arms as he careened through the roof of the barn, crashing on the second floor where they keep extra equipment and hay, and landing with a heavy thud that cracked the ground beneath him in an empty stable. Bruce came running in and threw open the stable door, “Holy shit Clark! Are you okay?” He heard a small wheeze and then a giggle. The giggle turned into full on laughter as Clark sat up and started brushing himself off, “Never better. But I gotta work on that landing.” The two boys were cracking up in the barn as the crow hopped over to inspect the hole in the roof. It flew off quickly afterwards as Bruce helped Clark to his feet.

 

“Say that again.”

“Nihin, I’m telling you, the lad jumped over a barn. _A barn_. I watched it with my own beady little eyes. Also, if you can believe it, I think. He can _see_ through people.” She just sat there with her mouth hanging open, staring at him. Zatara was pacing around the room, his cloak fluttering behind him. He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and put it back in his shirt pocket. She furrowed her brow as she went back to sharpening her sword. She pursed her lips together, “You’re _positive_ he’s not magic?” Zatara nodded, “Sure as all hell. I’m telling you. We cannot take this child so easily. What if the whole family is like this huh? We need at least a few Canus. Maybe the witch-killers have something in their awful little bags that can help.”

“Can’t you just poof him somewhere else?” She held up her sword and gave it a few swings. It sliced through the air so easily it made a small whistling sound. Zatara shook his head, “I’m sorry dear, but at the end of the day he’s still a child. I can’t just… Poof him somewhere. What if something happens to him?”

“If what you’re saying is correct then there’s nowhere you could poof him where something would.” Nihin raised an eyebrow slyly. She wiped her blade with a rag to get the oil off of it from sharpening it, then sheathed it. She sat down on the hotel bed heavily, “We need more information to make a plan. I don’t want to hurt a family. Even if they are… different. But I will if I have to. I hate the idea of going into a fight I can’t win though.” Zatara sat next to her and the two sat in silence as they turned schemes over in their heads. Zatara snapped his fingers as an idea dawned on him (in the next room a glass cracked and the lights flickered). He grinned widely, “You don’t need to take the family down. You just need to take the boy. You want to make sure he’s safe and his Matron doesn’t know he’s gone right? Well… maybe _you_ could be his Matron. Then you can stay in Smallville until he returns. Maybe he really _is_ safer here. I can give you a charm, a glamour spell to make you look like someone else to everyone else but him.”

She popped up, then jumped to her feet, “Of course!” her face almost instantly fell, “But then I’d have to defeat Da Ye in combat. I’ve never won against her. She’s… monstrous. She’s got special powers you know.”

“Powers? What, like magic?” Nihin shook her head, “If I hadn’t seen it for myself I wouldn’t believe it. She can walk through walls. She was _born_ with the ability. I’ve never heard of anything like it.” She stopped and closed her eyes and face-palmed. “The boy. Maybe he was born with the gifts too. He’s probably like Da Ye. Either way, I don’t think I can beat either of them in a fair fight.” Zatara laughed heartily as he traced his finger over a pattern in the book he held, “Who said anything about a fair fight my dear?”

 

Bruce liked being with Clark, but his friend left him very little breathing room. He would try to hold his hand while walking, which Bruce didn’t hate, but it was so hot and his hands felt so tender from the work. He would slide his arm around his waist at times, and bring him in to hold him tight. Clark’s cool skin felt nice enough and they would kiss, but then Clark’s hand would slide under Bruce’s shirt and it made him a little nervous. His stomach felt light and jittery and it made his face feel hot. He would pull away and then they would awkwardly apologize to each other and go back to what they were doing. He would take showers and feel like Clark was listening to him. He felt had awkwardly tried to masturbate during one shower but quickly stopped when he realized Clark could hear his breath speeding up. When he came to the bedroom Clark smiled awkwardly smiled at him and asked him to sleep in the bed with him, which he declined. He tried to train when he could, but he didn’t know when he would do it. He wanted to keep the training secret from his friend. The two of them shared plenty, but Bruce wanted to keep this to himself. He felt that there was something crucial, necessary in someone having something that only they know. Something that only they work towards without announcing it to others. He jogged every day and ticked off the days at the Kent farm on a calendar. He had been there two weeks and each day felt longer than the last.

 

This morning, Bruce has finally managed to get some time to himself while Clark is in town with his father. Martha asked him to clean up the room, which he quickly did, then scurried out to the barn. He was out there practicing his forms, over and over and practiced his blocks and low kicks. Over and over he practiced his punches and throws. The horses watched him idly as he did them as many times as he could before his muscles began to feel sore. When he couldn’t do anymore he sat down on a bucket and watched a line of ants diligently carry piece of a dead grasshopper home. He took a piece of hay and poked at them as they passed by, while idly thinking to himself how bored he was. He missed Gotham. He wanted to sleep in his own bed and eat breakfast with Alfred and a midnight snack with Nihin. He wondered what they were doing right now and he sighed. He was happy to be with his friend, but it wasn’t a visit. He felt a very real sense that he was going to be there a long time and that dampened his mood severely. While he wasn’t entirely miserable he wasn’t entirely happy either. He would do the same thing every day: wake up, help Clark with chores while sneaking off to kiss somewhere secluded, eat breakfast, help Martha clean up dishes, read a book, explore the Kryptonian ship, and just lazily explore the farm. It really hit Bruce in this moment of quiet that Alfred might not be coming back for him. He felt his heart get heavy at the thought of Alfred writing him off as too much trouble and letting him go. He told him that he was sending him away for his own good, but that’s just what parents tell children. Kids at school still believed their dogs went to farms when they died because of what their parents told them. Bruce knew better. He felt a wave of shame and anger flooded over him. Alfred was supposed to be his ally, his strength. He was supposed to care for him after he lost his whole world, and he’s rotting away on some farm because he was learning to defend himself. Had he met Nihin earlier, he could’ve protected his parents! Had his parents asked the R’as he was sure he would’ve protected them. Taught his father how to break the arm of the man who tried to rob them, so that he couldn’t shoot. He would’ve learned how to step in and grab the shoulder, lock the elbow, and keep his wife alive.

 

Bruce clenched his fist and his jaw tightened. He felt a rage he had never experienced before. He wanted to shout and kick, tear something down. He very rarely indulged many of his emotions, a rare thing for a young man, but now he needed to. He punched the air in his forms fiercely and quickly. The small whiff of the air being sliced could be heard. He kicked harder than before. He pushed himself, adrenaline flowing through him. He did this over and over, until his muscles started to scream. Then he squat down and held back the tears he had. He jumped to his feet and screamed to the heavens above, “YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” He heaved catching his breath when he heard a rustling behind him and he whirled around, hands up and ready for a fight. Martha yelped a little, “Sorry! I’m sorry. It’s just me hun. Sounds like… Sounds like you’re having a bit of a fit here. You feel better?” He dropped his hands to his side, “No. I don’t.”

“Come inside and drink some lemonade hm?” She slipped her arm around his shoulders and they strolled towards the house. She smiled softly, “You’re such a good boy Bruce. Alfred is lucky to have ya’. I think of you like… well, like a son-in law. You’re good for this family. You’re helpful and kind. I know it’s hard being here, but I want you to know it’s a blessing you’re here. Clark is over the moon about it.” They got into the kitchen and she pulled a glass down. She poured him a glass of cold lemonade and handed it to him. Bruce took a big sip and wiped his mouth, “I’m happy to be here. It’s nice to see the countryside for a bit. I’ve only lived in the city. But Alfred doesn’t have me.” She frowned. “Hun. Why would you say that?” He looked at her with big blue eyes, and very solemnly said, “He doesn’t have me. You do.” She nodded sadly, “I can see how you think that. But he misses you so much. I know it. I’m a mom. I can tell. It won’t be much longer I’m sure.” She placed her hands on his shoulder and smiled sweetly, “He’s coming back. I promise.” Bruce started thinking back to everything in the past month. He couldn’t recall anyone asking him that in a while. He lowered his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned downwards, “I miss my family.” She held him close and stroked his hair. “I know dear, I know.” She closed her eyes and briefly the two had each other. He liked Martha, he felt a warmth from her that he didn’t feel from many other people. She always felt like a mom to him. He wanted to protect that.

 

There was a knock on the door and Martha pulled away, “I wonder who that could be?” She headed to the door and Bruce tagged along. She cracked the door open slowly, “Can I help you?” a rich accented voice carried through the door, “Hello. My name is Nichelle Gahul. Pleasure. I’m a social worker, looking for a Bruce Wayne? I believe this is his residence currently?” Martha opened the door even more and Bruce’s eyes widened. In the doorframe stood Nihin with her hair braided and put up in a bun. She wore a pencil skirt that went down to the middle of her calved, with a small slit in the side. She sported a black button up top with short sleeves, buttoned all the way up to her neck. Behind her stood a man not much older than Nihin, but something about him felt much older. He sported a classic tuxedo and a cloak with a red lining.  Nihin smiled sweetly, “You must be Martha yes?”

“I am.”

“Wonderful. I’m here for my son.” The man waved his hand and Martha instantly fell asleep. Nihin caught her limp form and set her gently on the couch. Zatara and Nihin entered and closed the door, with Zatara uttering words and waving his hands. She looked at Bruce and put a finger to her lips to indicate he keep quiet. When Zatara was done, the door turned bright blue. He shrugged, “Here’s hoping the kid can’t hear through magic barriers. However, he knows something is wrong. The crows are disturbed, he’s talking to his dad about coming home early. You think he… heard us? From here?”

“Yes, he probably did” Bruce said with a strong voice. He looked at Nihin and ran into her arms. They threw their arms around each other and she kissed the top of his head. She bent down eye level with him, “Listen Bruce. We are coming to get you back. Alfred is safe, but we are coming to get you back. We need to know about this family though. We don’t want to hurt anyone. This man,” She gestured to Zatara, “Is a… spellcaster. He is very powerful. He has been watching you. We don’t have much time. When that woman awakes, she won’t remember my face. But your friend might not be affected by the glamour.” She pushed a bracelet in his hand. “Wear this. If he still knows it is you, then leave two rocks on the window sill of his room. If he doesn’t recognize you, leave one.” Zatara coughed, “Sorry love, but we have to go… _now_.”

She whipped around with a sneer, “I thought they drove into town, we have at least forty minutes.” He shook his head, “You’ll never believe this but… he’s running. And I can assure you, we have far less than forty minutes before he gets here.” He started chanting an incantation and Nihin looked at Bruce. He held her and hugged her, then whispered into her neck, “Does Alfred still love me?” And held him tightly, “He never stopped my dear.” A wind surged and caused the furniture to move as a portal opened up and Zatara tapped Nihin, “He’s almost here, we have to go!” She looked at Bruce one last time and the two jumped into the portal. It closed and a couple of minutes afterwards Clark came flying into the door, “What happened?!” He bellowed. Bruce flinched, stood straight, looked him in the eyes and merely said, “Your mom felt sick so she is laying down. A social worker came to make sure I still lived here.” Clark listened intently, but Bruce’s heart rate didn’t slow or speed up from its already fast pace. He wasn’t lying.

 

 


	11. Can't we all just get along?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspicion abounds as Clark feels a sense of dread and Bruce starts to feel hopeful about finally leaving the Kent farm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BRITNEY BISH! I'M BACK! Finally finished all my other writing gigs! At lassst! This chapter is double stuffed cause I've been gone too long and I'm happy to use a little of my language skills to put a sliver of Chinese in it. I hope you guys like ittt!!!

Clark paced around the living room, “I feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

“I’m not.”

“I… I know you’re lying. I can tell. I came all the way home and-”

“Did you run here? Where’s your dad?”

“He… I snuck out the back of the store and ran here. I heard something-“

“What did you hear?”

“Bruce. There was someone here. I know it. I _heard_ them.”

“It was a social worker.”

“Bruce-“

“Your dad is probably worried. You should get back.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going in here!”

A long silence and Bruce felt his cheeks get hot and red. “It was just a social worker.”

“You said that before, but I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t have to believe it. That’s what happened.”

“Then where did they go?” Bruce shrugged. “Bruce, I ran here, and I didn’t hear a car, truck, _any_ vehicle around this house. So. Where. Did. They. Go?” Bruce realized he was trapped. He hadn’t considered that Clark would be able to tell if someone was coming or going. He felt a bit of panic forming up in his chest. He looked down at the ground, “It was… a friend. She came to check on me.”

“She? She who? What friend?”

“A friend okay? She just stopped in.”

“What did she do to my mother?”

“What? Nothing. Your mom is fine. She’s just taking a nap. My friend snuck in and then left.”

“What’s her name?”

“Why does that matter? She’s gone. I’ll probably never see her again.”

  
“Why?”

“She’s probably not coming back.” He replied sadly. Clark moved in and hugged Bruce tightly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset. I just… didn’t want anything to happen to you or mom.” Bruce hugged him back and closed his eyes. He smelled the outside on his clothes, but no sweat. It wasn’t even an effort for him to run the miles to get home.

 

Clark eventually stirred his mother awake. “Oh Clark! What? Wait… Are you and your father back?” She drowsily asked. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, “Oof, sleeping on the couch is always rough on me. Oh! The woman! Did she leave?” Clark nodded, “She left.” She made it to her feet, “Oh good. She was just making sure Bruce lived here. Checking in on his safety I think. Then she left. I was so tired after that, I laid down and just… dozed off.”

Bruce and Clark exchanged looks, with Bruce bearing a strong _I told you so_ on his face. Clark sat his mother down, “I’m going back to the store. Dad is still there. We’ll be back later.” Clark gave Bruce a lingering look before leaving. Bruce and Martha flinched when they heard a small boom as Clark burst into a run.

 

Martha looked over to Bruce, “Sweetie, you look pale. Was Clark rough with you?”

“No ma’am. I just… didn’t expect a social worker to come here for me.”

“Oh honey. They just want to make sure you’re okay. You’re here with us for a bit and we all just want to make sure you’re okay before you go home.” Bruce gave her a cold stare. He felt a wave of energy hit him. It came from a place of hope and frustration at still having to be here.

“I’m never leaving this place. You know that right? That Alfred left me here? Forever. I’m going to grow up here in Smallville with Clark.” He said firmly. He realized he had never before stated it, even in public. He could never bring himself to.

“Don’t sound so bitter about that dear. We love you. We love having you here. You’re like family to us.”  Bruce felt a bit embarrassed at his harsh tone. “Sorry. I know.” He pocketed the bracelet in his hand, “I’m… going to take a nap. Sorry…” He marched upstairs, and Martha sat on the couch still feeling a bit dazed. She knew Johnathon would want a hot meal when he got home and that Clark would want to spend time with Bruce immediately. She felt a bit of sadness and wondered if Bruce felt as trapped as she did at times.

 

Bruce took the bracelet out of his pocket upstairs. He knew he would need all of this cunning to pull off the test with the bracelet. He went upstairs and he rifled through Clark’s things until he found a notebook. He began to write the date, then scribbled it out. If he wanted to keep notes, he’d have to use a code. Something difficult for Clark to crack. He started working out number and letter combinations, mixed with various symbols from books he picked up. He decided to test it out tomorrow. He knew now that there was always someone looking out for him. He had all the time in the world. When Clark came back, Bruce hurried downstairs to help bring in the groceries. He noticed Clark kept glancing at him and pointedly ignored it. After dinner and showers the two boys laid in bed together. Clark smiled, “You seem to be in a good mood.”

“How could you tell?”

“You never lay in the bed with me.”

“I… I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready I guess.”

“To lay next to me?” Clark began playing with his hair.

“I guess I was worried that I couldn’t get… comfortable?”

“Why are you asking it as a question?”

“Because I’m not sure if that’s the word I want to use.” Bruce snuggled a little closer to Clark. Clark put his arm around him and held him. He could smell the sweat on Clark’s neck and feel his warmth of his body that ran a little warmer at night. Clark kissed him on the forehead, “Why wouldn’t you want to get comfortable?”

“Clark. I know you and your family mean well. But this isn’t my home. Gotham is. I have people there that care about me. When Alfred made me come here. I was just… angry. I felt lost. He abandoned me. But now-“

“Now what?” Clark pulled away to look at Bruce, “What’s different now?”

“Now… I feel like something could change. I just… let’s just be with each other right now. I mean. We’re with each other all the time. But I want…”

“Yeah. I get it.” Clark kissed him and Bruce kissed him back. What started simple and sweet quickly turned more intimate. Shirts fell on the floor and they pressed against each other, trying to just get what they sought from another body. Clark slid his hands down to work on Bruce’s pants when Bruce broke the kiss, panting, to stop him. He just shook his head and Clark nodded. He felt impatient though. He never quite got why Bruce was determined to push the inevitable back so long. He knew that they would be together forever, that kind of love should be enough. But he respected and loved Bruce. He wouldn’t force him, even if he could, so easily.

 

When they finally burned themselves out and lay next to each other, sweating and panting, Bruce held Clark’s hand, comparing the sizes of his to his friends. He laughed, “What’s it like?”

“Hm?”

“Being so strong. What’s it like?”

“It’s like… It’s like living in a world made of paper, and being surrounded by people that are eggs.” Bruce laughed and changed positions to get comfortable, “Eggs? What the hell does that mean?” Clark laughed sadly, “It means eggs. You’ve held an egg. How hard is it to crack?” Bruce’s smile faded as the message dawned on him. “Oh… Oh shit. It’s that easy huh?”

Clark kissed him on the forehead, “It’s that easy to _kill_ someone. I have to treat everything I touch like glass. I just… hate the idea of people going around outside so casually, when they could just. Break.” Bruce smiled, “That’s the risk we take when we not supermen.”

“Supermen? That sounds made up.”

“It is. It’s an idea from Nee-Nee something. Nihin taught me about him once. He talked about a superman and it made me think of you.”

“Nihin? Who’s Nihin?” Clark heard the rhythm of Bruce’s heart pick up speed. He felt something was amiss.

“What? She’s the tutor I had in Gotham. I think I wrote you about her. She teaches me afterschool. I’m almost positive I wrote you about her.”

“How… do you know this woman?” Clark asked slowly. Bruce shrugged and got up. “I’m running to the bathroom. Tomorrow, you wanna see something neat?”

“Yeah, sure.” Bruce grinned and went to the bathroom. Clark sat up and tried to think of why Bruce would lie to him, especially about a tutor. If the heartbeat wasn’t enough, Bruce was the most brilliant person he’d ever met. There’s no way he’d need a tutor. He wondered briefly if his research into Clark led him to something bigger. They had spent so much time trying to figure out what and who Clark was, he forgot that Bruce had access to information and people he never even dreamed of. He imagined Bruce in a dark house with dark figures surrounding him, whispering, murmuring, surrounding him. Bruce looked smaller and smaller as the shadows swallowed him up. Clark felt his heart speed up. He felt beads of sweat form as a wave of panic hit him. His stomach started to hurt, and he started getting dizzy. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t know why. He never felt like this before. He crouched down on the floor and cried. All he could think about was how scared Bruce felt. How scared he felt. He didn’t know what was wrong, he couldn’t stop his body. His wild eyes looked around the room and it all felt too small. It was too small to hold any air in it. He started whimpering to himself. He felt powerless suddenly. He felt the shadows that could swallow up Bruce surrounding him too. He couldn’t touch shadows, he couldn’t stop them. Even with the best hearing on earth he couldn’t hear Bruce come in and he couldn’t understand what he was saying.

 

Bruce was gone and then his parents came rushing in. “What happened?!” Johnathan angrily shouted at Bruce. The boy shook his head, “I-I dunno. I went to the bathroom and came back and he was like… this.” Martha kept shushing Clark who just kept crying and gasping for air. She held him and rocked him back and forth as Johnathan grabbed Bruce’s arm, “What. Did. You. Do? Don’t lie to me boy.” Bruce clenched his jaw and practically hissed out the words, “Nothing. _Sir_.” Johnathan dragged him out of the room as Martha piped up quickly, “John, don’t! He hasn’t done anything!” John dragged Bruce downstairs while mentally making a note to himself about how much muscle he could feel. He took him to the living room, “We’re going to have a little talk you and me. Martha may be ready to _baby_ you, but let me promise you, I don’t trust you. You come around and my son suddenly starts acting funny, always touching, always around you. Gawd, he looks at you the way I look at my wife for Chrissakes.”

“So?”

“So?!” His voice raised a little, “It’s not natural. I love my son, but this _thing_ you turn him into… Don’t make him odder than he already is. I know what you are. Some dandy from the city, but don’t you drag my son into this.”  


“Don’t drag _your_ son into this?! I haven’t done a damn thing!”

“Don’t you raise my voice in my house boy, or so help me…”

“What? You’ll kick me out? By all means. I’ll go! I’ll find my way back to Gotham.”

“Is this why Alfred sent you here huh? He’s an army man, he’d never allow this kind of… madness to happen to a young man. You’ve got money, you’re a good-looking boy, come from good stock and you want…” His voice trailed off as he gestured towards Clark’s room. “My son has enough on his plate without _you_ leading him around like some desperate harlot. Clark’s turned into a fucking puppy since you got here.”

Bruce laughed sardonically, “Whoa, wait. Let me understand this. You’re issue here is that your son might like _men_ as opposed to considering the fact that he’s an _alien_ and where he’s from that might be normal for him? That’s rich.” Johnathan stood there stunned, “From another-? He showed you? He showed a little bastard like you?”

Bruce laughed again, “You said it yourself, he follows me like a puppy right?” Johnathan’s hand moved on instinct as he struck Bruce in the face. Bruce didn’t even stumble backwards. He held his cheek and every muscle in his body screamed for vengeance. Johnathan took a deep breath, “I’m… I’m sorry son. My hand… I’m sorry. I-” Bruce shook his head and looked at the stairs. Clark was coming down with his mother. Martha’s face was red as if she was crying and Clark immediately went to Bruce and hugged him, “I didn’t mean to worry you.” Bruce didn’t hug him back and looked straight at Jonathan.

 

Clark squeezed a little harder. Bruce could start to hear his heartbeat in his ears, and felt as he was losing the ability to breathe deeper. He heard a small voice in his ear, “Please hug me back. I was so scared.” Bruce could barely raise his arms to return the gesture. Finally Clark let go and Bruce struggled to keep his breath. Johnathan never broke his gaze from Bruce, “I think your friend should sleep down here tonight Clark. I don’t want you feeling crowded in that room.” Clark was about to argue when Martha shook her head. He closed his mouth and nodded and looked at Bruce before going upstairs. Johnathan looked at Martha, “I’ll be up soon.” Martha laid a gentle hand on her husband’s chest, “He’s good for him.” She headed upstairs. Johnathan shook his head, “Maybe we should make new plans for you Bruce.” Bruce smiled a large fake smile, “Already working on it Mister Kent.” Johnathan nodded and started to head upstairs. He stopped and turned, “I’m not… I’m not against you loving who you want. You’re not my kin. But Bruce, what you do to my son. This doesn’t end well for anyone. I’m trying to protect my family, that’s what a parent does.” He went upstairs and Bruce went to the sofa to arrange the blankets on there for the night.

 

The next morning he was shaken awake gently by Clark. He opened his eyes slowly, “Hey. What are you doing down here?”

“My parents aren’t awake yet. Did you and my dad get in a fight?”

“Kind of. You woke me up for that? It’s not even dawn.”

“Well I… No. I know he worries, but he’s panicking over nothing. I think he’s going to take you or me into town. He wants to separate us.” Bruce struggled not to doze back off as he nodded sleepily. Clark nudged him gently, “Show me the neat thing you talked about before he wakes up.” Bruce’s mind was a bit foggy, but it quickly recalled what the day before. His eyes snapped open, “Right, that.” He sat up and felt his pocket. The bracelet was still there. Clark looked, “Why can’t I see what’s in your pocket?”

“You can’t?” He shook his head. Bruce chuckled, “Cause it’s a magic trick. I wanna see if it you can figure it out.” He slipped the bracelet out of his pocket, “Close your eyes.” Clark nodded and happily closed his eyes tightly. Bruce slipped the bracelet on and then tapped Clark on the shoulder. Clark opened his eyes and in front of him was a beautiful woman with big blue eyes and raven hair. She smiled sweetly, “What do you see?”

“You’re… you’re a girl. A woman I mean. You even sound like a woman. I can… hear parts of your voice, the lower frequencies, when you talk. There’s a small humming, like when the tv’s on. But other than that, you’re a woman.” Clark smiled brightly and got up, moving around Bruce who sat primly as Clark inspected him. Clark touched his knees and pushed them apart a little, “Is… everything like a woman?” The woman gasped and clenched her legs closed, “How dare you?! Why would you ask that?!”

“Well, you look like a woman version of you! How could I not like that! I think I would marry woman you right now if I could.” The woman jokingly slapped him, “You’re no good you know? So, I look convincing huh?”

“Yeah! How are you doing this?” She shrugged, “I won’t tell. That takes away from the trick. Close your eyes.” He did and when he opened them, it was a beaming Bruce sitting in front of him. Clark smiled and kissed him sweetly on the lips, “I like this form too. I think I could marry this version of you if it was ever allowed.”

“Right, two guys getting married. That’s a new one.” Bruce joked. They chatted before Clark slipped back upstairs and Bruce laid back down to pretend to be asleep. Sure enough when they were “woken up” by Martha she let them know that she would be taking Bruce to the market with her. As the family all sat at the quiet breakfast table, Bruce asked to run upstairs to get his notebook and sprinted from the table. He ran up and placed a small rock in the windowsill. He caught glimpse of the fields with crows all around it, flying around clearly agitated. He looked out the window and didn’t see anything. He grabbed his notebook and a pen. He came traipsing down the stairs, “Hey, if we’re going to the market, can I use my money to buy a smaller notebook than this? I’d like a one to-” His voice trailed off. At the table in his place was a slim beautiful Chinese woman. Her hair was tied into a tight bun and she worse a tunic and pants similar to Nihin’s but they were red and black.

Everyone at the table was stock still. She grinned and leaned forward, “Don’t worry princeling. A mild paralytic. They are aware of their surroundings, but they cannot move. You don’t know me, but I know you. I’ve known you since you were a little baby, pulled from the womb of Martha. So this is where you were spirited off to. It took quite a bit of work, but I’ve found you. I shall be praised for my work.”

“Who the hell are you?” Bruce maneuvered his pen to hold it like a knife. The woman got up and took a piece of bacon from Martha’s plate, “Nihin thought she could hide you. Her and that incompetent _servant_ of Thomas, Albert or whatever his name is.” She munched on the bacon, “She treats you so sweetly. Spoils you really. I can’t believe she never even talked about me in all this time. I suppose it’s fair. I’ve been a bit busy lately. Left you to neglect. Long story short, my name is Da Ye. Nihin is my sister in arms. She is your Blade, and I am your Matron. Your mother. 现在做个好孩子”Bruce looked at her with pure confusion on his face. She tutted a little, “Doesn’t even speak Mandarin. Okay, English then. Be a good boy. You won’t win against me with that pen. If you couldn’t kill your Blade with it, you won’t kill me.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I had to kill your last Matron _and_ your Blade to get this role. Nihin failed to defeat me. That’s why she’s second best.” She walked towards him calmly and before he could blink she grabbed his arm, “And if you can’t beat second, then you sure can’t beat first.” She twisted his arm and he dropped the pen. Clark could hear the crack of a bone in Bruce’s arm. He couldn’t see the two of them but he felt the rage building in him as the noise behind him indicated there was a tussle. Bruce tried to push Da Ye off, but every time he tried to touch her, she seemed to ghost past him. Finally she got behind him and put him in a headlock. Everything started to fade to black for him. He heard a clatter as a chair was knocked back and he fell to the ground coughing. He opened his eyes to see Clark stumbling towards him while Da Ye was a few steps up. She hissed, “How could a child be moving? What is this?!” She phased through the floor, appearing behind Clark and striking the back of his neck to sever his spinal column, but it felt like hitting a wall. She shoved him off of the stairs and grabbed Bruce, who instantly started struggling. Suddenly a gust of wind as a portal opened up and Nihin and Zatara came out. Zatara instantly started reciting a spell and Nihin, dressed in her black warriors outfit pointed a sword at Da Ye. “Put him down. He belongs to me. Da Ye.”

“Oh? Since when? What type of mother would I be to let go of my child?” She quickly stuck him with a needle. Bruce felt his muscles started to lose strength almost instantly. Nihin sneered, “He is no child of yours.”

“R’as begs to disagree. Ever since you spirited him away I’ve been hunting you down like the wild bitch you are. He thought you were going soft. I never thought you’d leave him in a dump like this.”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re a bad fucking liar. But don’t worry, once he’s secured, I’ll take your head, the wizard there, and that servant of the house that helped you. All of you will make a nice prize for R’as yes?”

Clark got to his feet and heard a whisper in his ear from nowhere and everywhere at once, “Don’t move dear boy. If we don’t play this right, she’ll take Bruce and most likely kill your parents. You don’t know who we are, but right now, we are allies.” Clark’s eyes landed on the magician who kept reciting his incantation. Clark listened hard and heard his parents’ rapid hearts. _Fear._ He knew that the next few minutes might change his entire life.

 

 


	12. You can't save people, you can only love them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Da Ye and Nihin exchange words and blows as they each try to take Bruce in the direction they see fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back ladies, gents, both and neither! This chapter is a bit monstrous in length (if this was a comic my editor would be FURIOUS), but it's because a lot happens. I will be on vacation for a bit cause it's National Week in China! I'll still be writing, but I won't guarantee an update. This whole story is just gonna be a book I think. I always tell myself I'll wrap it up but then I'm like "Jackie!!! ONE MORE THING!" (If you get that, +100 internet points for you) Next in the series will be "ICE AGE" which is a retelling of some villains (bout damn time) but this story needs to come along a biiiiiit further before I post it cause there are some spoilers....

Bruce was cradling his arm, his shoulder drooping. He couldn’t do more than watch while slumped on the floor. As the paralytic wore off, the pain started to creep in. Nihin and Da Ye swords filled the air with a metallic ring as they struck against each other. Da Ye phased through her opponent to get behind Nihin and snatch her by the hair. She tried to pull her to the ground and at the same time threw a dagger straight at Zatara’s throat. It stopped just short of his neck and he took a step back, “Well now, bit of a she-wolf eh? That’s okay!” Nihin grabbed Da Ye’s hand and flipped around to drive a foot into her side. Da Ye flew backward into a wall, “The spell is done, so I’ll just take the boys and get on out of your way. Maybe take this outside? This is someone’s home after all…”

“Shut up wizard!” Da Ye screeched as she thrust her sword towards him. Her body suddenly stopped, as if bound like a puppet. Her sword shook in her hand and she was forcibly whipped around to face Nihin, “Your fight is with me Da Ye. So you fight me and me alone.” Da Ye scoffed, “Huh, I see. Your wizard bound us until death do us part eh? How sweet. Let’s take this little game outside then. Your magician is right, this is someone’s home. _They_ can die in it, but a stranger being killed here would be rude.”

She put her sword down and walked straight through the front door. After a few seconds Nihin rolled her eyes, “Show off.” She turned and quickly saw to Bruce. She felt along his arm and when she touched a spot on his forearm he yelped in pain. Then she felt around his shoulder and nodded grimly, “She dislocated your shoulder and fractured your arm. She’s quite good at that arm bender.” She reached into a pouch and grabbed a cob with cloth wrapped around it. “Bite down on this” Clark’s hand shot out and grabbed her. She could feel the pressure around her own bones as he gripped, “Don’t touch him. Who are you people?” She looked up at him, “You must be Clark. What a friend. My name is Nihin. I am Bruce’s Matron-or at least, I will be shortly. I need to pop his shoulder back in place before the swelling gets too severe and then it’ll be almost impossible. Now, let me do my job.” Bruce held back tears as he whimpered out, “Clark, let her go please.” Clark looked taken aback as he released his grip and went to check on his parents. He could hear their muscles slowly starting to unclench but their hearts were racing. He put a hand on Martha’s shoulder and softly cooed, “Don’t worry, the poison will wear off soon.”

He watched intently as Nihin gripped Bruce’s shoulder and with a sickeningly audible pop pushed it back in. Bruce bit down hard and tears streamed down his face, “I’m sorry my little princeling. I’m sorry. But I will leave you with your friend for a moment. If I wait too long, Da Ye will come back in and she will not be as kind as she was before. The spell prevents her from escaping, but the longer she breathes the more we are at risk.” She kissed him on the forehead and through the smell of sweat and leather he caught a hint of jasmine and lavender. She smoothed out his hair, “Listen to me. If she wins-“

“No, don’t say that.”  
“IF she wins, she will try to kill Zatara first. If she does, you need to go with her. No matter what okay? She’ll kill you, your friends, and Alfred and blame it on me. You need to go, understand? Tell me you understand.” He nodded. She wiped the tears from his eyes, “I will be back.”

She got up and exchanged a few words in Arabic with Zatara. He nodded and said flatly in English, “Consider it done.” She strolled outside and the door closed behind her with an almost deafening slam. Bruce pushed his back against the wall and tried to stand up with no hands. One still hung limp in pain and the other was on his aching shoulder. Clark rushed over and helped him to his feet, “We need to go. We have to get out of here. Then you can explain what-”

“I’m not explaining anything and we’re not leaving.”

“I’ve just met the lad face-to-face, and I gotta say that your friend might be right Bruce. We have to go.”

“I’m not going until I see who wins this fight.” Bruce strode over to the window and Zatara blocked his way, “You’re no fool. You know what ‘winning the fight’ entails. Nihin wouldn’t want you to see this. _We should go_.” Bruce glared at Zatara so intensely it made him flinch. “I know what it means. And I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving her and there’s nothing you can do to change make me.” Zatara stepped out of the way and Bruce peered through the curtains outside. He saw the two figures in a type of ballet dance as their blades met, just glancing past each other’s bodies. Every so often a nick would appear, but as time dragged on, nicks became cuts that caused blood to spill. Bruce watched each move so intensely he didn’t pay Clark any mind as he was helping his parents to their feet at last.

 

Clark helped his father get up first, his knees wobbling underneath him. Johnathan sighed, “I feel like a newborn calf. Jesus, she really got us. She must’ve poisoned the food, I can’t imagine a blow dart working on you. Thanks son.” Once he got to his feet, he looked intently at his wife and son, “We need him gone. Out of the house. Ask that wizard asshole if he can poof him somewhere else,”

“I’d like you to not attack my character considering I saved your life. And the goal _was_ to poof him somewhere, but the boy wants to see if his mother figure dies, so I figure I could give him that at least.” He stood at the end of the table and with a playing card in his hand. He slipped it in between his fingers, in and out, dexterous and nonchalant. “I do have the spell ready though. Things go south, we are headed to a sweet little place in Maine for a bit. Though I’ll have to have your invincible boy here grab Bruce. Woman can walk through walls, so our window to escape is quite limited I’d say.”

Martha’s voice quivered, “Who are all of you people? What is this? Why are you after Bruce?”

Zatara smiled warmly, “Master of magic, Zatara. Pleasure my dear. The woman trying to kill the Chinese dragon is named Nihin. She is Bruce’s guardian as it were. As I understand it, she co-parents with Alfred.” Clark walked over to Bruce and put his hand on his back. He then slid it around his waist, and they watched the battle together. Johnathan glowered at the scene. Zatara continued, “Nihin belongs to a very dangerous family and Bruce belongs to another. Her job is to keep Bruce alive and she can’t do that if Bruce is hidden from her on some farm that Alfred banished him too hm? I suppose there’s nothing quite like a mother’s love right? You would know, being a mother yourself. Are all of you as… special as your son?” Johnathan shot Zatara a look and he and Martha answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Maybe.”

He looked at his wife with anger and surprise. She bit her lips then barked, “He’s a wizard John. There are two assassins in the front yard and for all we know Bruce is part of a crime family. We aren’t in a position to bluff anybody.” She stared him down for a bit and his face softened, “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just… what does his family do? Drugs? Are they mafia?”

“Hm? Oh, the Waynes? The Waynes are clean as far as I know. Bruce is part of two families technically. One laid claim to him ages ago. The other by birth. Blood says he’s a Wayne, but claim says he’s… Well, if I tell you their names it guarantees a slow death, but I assure you, it is much scarier than the Mafia. He’s a good kid, but they want him back. Nihin thinks he isn’t ready for that though. She has… a complicated past, she knows what Bruce is going through. That’s why she’s taken such a keen interest in him.”

Bruce cocked his head at that last bit but his eyes never wavered. The two women were slowing down. Nihin’s left arm was deeply sliced and hung useless. Da Ye’s right thigh bore a stab bleeding profusely. They each knew they had to end it soon. Da Ye hissed at Nihin, then put her sword tip into the ground to use her blade as a crutch to steady herself.

“Why did you show up Da Ye? You could’ve left well enough alone. You knew I was raising Bruce properly.”

“I found out something that a Matron couldn’t ignore. So here I am. Let me just say… I wish R’as killed you when he had the chance. Funny he didn’t follow through. He _always_ follows through when it’s someone’s time to die.” Da Ye growled. Nihin smirked, “You sure like using the Dragon’s name so casually when you’re not around him. You treat it like your friends,”

“Fuck you. I have that right. I’ve earned it.”

“Oh? And what have you done that is so worthy of earning you the right to put his name on your tongue?”

“I birthed him a child a few years ago. One so perfect, so magnificent, he will beg me for the right to betroth her to Bruce.”

“Oh? And what makes this child of your so perfect?”

“She is still so young, but already built to be a killer. She did not inherit my ability but one better. Her name is 尸夜(Shi Ye).”

“Her being a killer does not make her so special. We are _all_ killers Da Ye. And Bruce is betrothed to Thalia when she is of age. We all know this.”

“Ah right. I must’ve forgotten. Right, the ideal marriage. The only thing better than a Wayne would be a Savage right? Then the war could end.” Nihin’s face suddenly became dark and her jaw visibly clenched. Da Ye grinned, “But that could never happen right? A Savage bearing a child to wed to an Al Ghul? Why, if that happened, their child would have rights to both clans. Oh, but what happens to that child I wonder?” She shrugged theatrically, “Either way, my Shi will be the top Blade of the R’as and his heirs. I already picked an English name for her, Shiva. I read it in a book.”

“That’s not English.”

“Like you would know. Your mother tongue is Arabic snake.” Da Ye spat. “Well, either way, it was a good book.”

“Before I kill you, I want to ask you something Da Ye, mother to mother. Do you ever regret this life?” A long pause as they both felt the life draining out of them. The tight bind of their leather outfits slowing it but not nearly enough. Da Ye felt her face get hot and her cheeks turn red, “I do at times. My Da Ye is a sweet cat. Born with soft paws, where no man can hear her coming. But she must be a tiger. It’s not fair. But it’s life. A woman does not get to choose her life all the time, but she can make her children strong enough to have that chance. After I kill you, I will do for Bruce what I should have done before. Make him strong. Make him so strong that no man can break him.”

“She sounds amazing. But is that all we’re good for in this world? Could we ever just be mothers who just love their kids?”

“It is precisely _because_ I love my daughter that I do these things for her. A father teaches with fear, but a mother leads with love. I know… you didn’t get the chance to enjoy that before.” She raised her sword and Nihin raised hers as well. Nihin nodded as she felt her own cheeks fill with the rising heat. She swallowed hard, “Promise me Da Ye, that whoever wins this, enjoys being a mother for just a little while. That you will raise Bruce to be a prince, not a killer.” Da Ye bit her bottom lip and nodded, “Okay. But you must promise me that if you win, you will look after my Shi Ye for me. Raise her to be a princess along with your Bruce.” They both felt their eyes sting, but neither one was able to let out all the feelings.

“Deal.”

 

They slowly approached each other, and Da Ye felt how little strength she had in her. Nihin knew that even in this weakened state Da Ye was faster. They were within a few feet of each other when Da Ye lunged. Her blade sliced through the air and Nihin leaned back just slightly, letting her throat take the now shallow slice before running Da Ye through. Da Ye dropped her weapon as she tried to pull herself off the sword. Nihin pulled it out quickly, and with a whirl took Da Ye’s head off.

 

She immediately grabbed her throat, where she felt the warm blood coming out. She could tell the cut wasn’t deep enough to kill her but certainly deep enough to be a danger. The door flung open and Bruce stood there with a look of visible relief. Clark nudged past him and stood in front, blocking him from Nihin’s view, bearing a stern expression, “Is it over?” Nihin scowled at him for a second and Zatara pushed passed the boys to get to her and start bandaging her throat. He turned to Clark, “It’s over for _now_ dear boy. You know what they say, it’s not over until the fat lady sings, and at best she is in the second act.” He finished tying up the bandage and gently said to Nihin, “Give me a few minutes to get some ingredients together and I’ll make you a healing poultice. I suggest not trying to talk for a couple of days, and you’ll certainly need the rest.” She nodded again and he led her to the front porch. Clark shook his head, “You’re not coming back in my home. No way. You nearly got everyone here killed.”

“Well dear boy, that honor _technically_ belongs to your boy toy here, but that’s fair. Here’s the thing. If we stay out here it will put all of us in far more danger. Da Ye would’ve had a fail-safe. ‘If she didn’t come back then go here’ kind of a system with someone. We’re going to put some goop on this nice woman’s neck so she can start healing and then I’m going to trace her friends and take care of that body. Then this nice woman will be out of your hair because I and she will be going on a short field trip.”

“To Gotham?!” Bruce chimed in hopefully. Clark whipped around to look at him, “Are they… Were they here to take you back? Does Alfred now? Did he send them?!”

“To answer you, no, not to Gotham. We will have to tie up some loose ends here and there. But first, we need to tie some up here. So, young mister… Clark is it? Are you letting us in or not?” Clark listened intently to the heartbeats, honed in on their regular rhythm. They were being sincere. He stepped aside and allowed them to pass. Nihin hobbled in and immediately leaned against an armchair. Martha came hustling over with a kitchen chair and helped her sit down. Zatara summoned a mortar and pestle, then various jars came floating one by one out of his cloak. He squinted at each label and the ones he didn’t need he slipped back in. Martha helped to start removing the armor from Nihin, finding the ties and latches that kept it on. Nihin looked at her questioningly and Martha smiled up at her, “Women have to help each other right? I know that if you meant to harm us, you woulda done it already. Besides, I can’t let you bleed all over the leather. It’ll stink and you’ll have to get fresh strips and that gets pricey.” Johnathan came over with a bowl of steaming hot water, a towel, and a needle with some thread. He placed it all on the coffee table and started to move the bandage out of the way. He took a good look at the cut and shook his head, “I could try to sew it up but it won’t be pretty and she won’t be singing opera anytime soon.” Zatara had started grinding up herbs and tallow, “Well all we need is to keep it closed. The poultice will heal the wound better than most medicines and save a good portion of the vocal chords.” Johnathan took the needle into the kitchen and started heating it on the stove. Martha looked at Zatara, “Can’t you magic it closed? Why use medicine?”

“Ah, well two reasons. I can almost guarantee that Da Ye’s blade has some form of poison on it, and if I magic it close, it might seal the poison in her system. We need to see what concoction Da Ye came up with. Second, healing magic is powerful and complicated and quite frankly I’m not terribly good at it.”

Clark raised a hand, “Sir, if it’s poison, shouldn’t she already be dead? She’s already been cut up a lot.”

“Mm, there’s more than one way to poison a well boy. Da Ye came here with a purpose. She knew Nihin would be here. It could be a spell component that’s been liquefied. I have to be careful.”

“A spell component? Like what, juiced newt’s eye?” Clark inquired.

“Exactly! I cast a spell to heal her and it’s a component specifically meant to redirect healing magic. Pure black magic kind of stuff. I try to mend a scratch, I trigger the spell and end up locking all of our souls in limbo.” The room fell into silence before Johnathan’s heavy boots broke it with his return with the needle wrapped in a rag and a cup of grain alcohol. He set them down and Martha pulled another chair up for him to sit. Zatara shook his head, “I gotta say, I’m surprised you’re showing us such care.”

Johnathan smirked, “Numb her up wizard. This is gonna be hard enough without her flinching. Besides, we’re helping because you two helped save my son, even if he didn’t need saving. How can I fault you for that? A man shouldn’t punish good people.”

As the adults worked to salvage Nihin, Bruce headed to the dining room and plopped into a chair. He leaned back, “I’m so tired and confused.” Clark sat next to him and put a hand on his thigh, “That’s the adrenaline wearing off. Bruce… did you know they were coming?”

“I knew Nihin and Zatara were coming. Da Ye was a surprise. I’ve never met her before.”

“Who… who sent her?”

“My… grandpa? I dunno what to call him. He’s like a great uncle to me I guess. I don’t really see him Alfred won’t let me.”

“I can see why.”  
“He’s not a bad person Clark. He gave me Nihin. She’s…”

“Like a mother to you. I get it. But Bruce-”

“What? Are you going to give me some big speech about how this is wrong now?”

“No. I’m gonna give you some big speech about how you should’ve told me.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“But you should.”

“Why?!”

“Because we’re friends! Because-” he lowered his voice, “I… I mean, I care for you, very deeply. I showed you _the ship_ Bruce. You don’t think that was scary for me? I was terrified that you would see me as some freak. But you treated me the same. I just… want you to trust me. I always feel like you’re so far away from me.”

Bruce felt a pain in his chest. He felt sick and hurt, his stomach clenched. He frowned, “I’m sorry Clark. I just… I’ve carried this secret for so long. I guess… I got used to it. But I really can’t tell you everything. I don’t want you in danger because of me.” Clark chuckled and kissed him quickly on the cheek, “I’m already in danger because of you. Trust me, I can take care of myself.”

Bruce blushed and his hand went up to his cheek subconsciously. He leaned in, “We have to turn around first. Follow my lead.” Bruce massaged his arm, then loudly complained, “It’s so sore, Clark, help me get some ice.” They walked to the freezer and Bruce nudged Clark until his back was to the adults and Bruce stood in front of him. “Okay. You can’t tell anyone. My… uncle. His name is R’as. He’s in charge of a lot of important things, but I don’t really know why or how. He’s at war, like an actual war, with ninjas and stuff with another family. I’m one of the highest-ranking people by blood. I’m like, the prince of Gotham or something.” Clark furrowed his brow, “Another family? Is the other family Savage?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Yeah, I guess they’re pretty mean.”

“No, I mean the name. Are they Savage?”

“What? Yeah, how did you know?”

“Because Nihin and the assassin were talking about them outside.” Bruce gasped as he remembered that Clark could hear every small thing around him. Bruce grabbed his hand, “Listen, we have to talk about this later. If Savage is making a move on me, then we need to be one step ahead. But we can’t tell Nihin or Zatara.”

“I thought they were the good guys.”

“They are. But they’re trying to ‘tie up these loose ends’ or whatever. There’s something going on. We have to find out what it is first. No one but us knows what you can do. If we can get the jump on them-” Clark’s face brightened, “Maybe we can really hurt them.”

“Or find a way to end the war. You guys will probably have to move though. I don’t think this place is safe.” Clark shrugged and guffawed. “What a tragedy that I have to leave this farm for a life of adventure somewhere huh? We’ll move to the city. Like, a real city. Like Star City or Metropolis. Maybe we’ll live with you in Gotham.” The boys started laughing. Martha glanced over to see the two joking together and she tried to hide her smile. Zatara noticed her stare, “Amazing how resilient kids can be.” She looked up, “Do you have kids?”

“Heavens no. Can’t stand the little buggers. I wouldn’t hate to have one, but a strapping young stallion like me tied down with a goblin? I don’t think it’s for me.”

They all laughed as they put the finishing touches on Nihin’s bandages. Clark came over and very sweetly asked, “Do you guys want some lemonade?”


	13. Martha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude covering the thoughts and feelings of some "forgotten" characters in the story of two of the World's Greatest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THINGS TO KNOW: I can't prove it, and I'm sorry for that (I can but I keep this collection of stories away from my main life), but I'm black. You're gonna see a word in here that is outdated and not the most harmful version of it, but still pretty bad. So TW racial slur.
> 
> Well well well, I finally did it. I wrote a whole journal for Thomas Wayne, but then I thought, "journaling is super popular and it could be cool to show some other journals instead". So here we are. I call this an interlude because the war is gonna start soon and I started the newest Ground Zero fic on the side, so I need time to write those up before posting!

_May 1 st, 1939_

_Having a child is no small matter. I gave birth a week ago and so many parts of me still ache and are so tender. They say the birth was a little difficult, but it was a nightmare. I’ve never felt such pain as I did that day. The way my mother always talked about childbirth, you’d think she was up and working in the mill a day after pushing me out. I wrote a letter to my parents to tell them about the birth but I know neither will visit me. Thomas had to post it for me, I can barely move. On top of it, I’m so tired. The baby cries all the time and I cannot sleep longer than an hour or two. My nipples are so tender at times and Bruce is having difficulty nursing. It is… not easy. I have picked up my journaling again after a two-month break because I want to document my time as a mother._

_Oh! When I was in the hospital, I was visited by a Negroe nurse who told me that Sir R’as sent his warmest regards. Tom’s face went white when he heard that. I was worried then. Thomas and I had talked before about this man and how he cannot influence our lives. He saw his sister Lily fall to him. I knew it was to be foreboding, but I was too tired and had just given birth. He wanted to rush me out of the hospital. They asked me if I could stay for a week and we left after three days. But when we were leaving there was a cadre of people waiting for us. They escorted us home. They showed us the lovely nursery that Bruce sleeps in. It was beautiful. Thomas was miserable the whole way, but for a woman who has a child, this was a Godsend._

_Sir R’as is here with his wife Taleah. She is so sweet and delightful. We share stories of our exhaustion while Lily brings us snacks. They stay in another part of the house and they are barely noticeable at times. Sir comes and goes as he pleases, but generally is found looking over documents in the library or by the side of his wife with his daughter in his arms. He reads to her tales of great generals and whispers to her that she shall have the world. I think this is charming._

_Thomas makes no effort to hide his disdain with me. I know we swore not to associate with these people, but they are not the monsters he thinks them to be! We are simply women, working and tired. We are living our lives, and I am a Wayne now. I didn’t think that a millers’ daughter could ever marry into wealth and I write this journal in a fine moleskin book with servants to help cater to me. Why he resists this I do not know. His father and brother-in-law were the same. Perhaps I AM taking this too lightly…_

_May 5 th, 1939_

_Today Thomas truly showed an ugly face! He got into it with his sister Lily and told her not to fix our food anymore. He acts as if she is out to kill us! I told him to calm down and he wanted to hear nothing from me. He called me a traitor to the family and brought up Richard. I felt truly sorry for the loss of Lily’s former husband, but let me say, I grew up in terrible parts. People who cross people get hurt or worse. I am no fool. If someone offers me a cushion and tells me I can have everything I want and I must only carry my name then so be it! Thomas fights this, but him being a Wayne is a blessing. Maybe he will see it someday…_

_July ~~5~~ 6th, 1939_

_Today Thomas and I got into a fight. My chest was quite tender from nursing and my back was absolutely aching! I had just fed little Bruce but he was not a happy babe at all. He screamed bloody murder for thirty minutes solid. Sir R’as was here for a visit and he came in after hearing such a ruckus. I swear he has a way with children! Thaleah and his wife were napping in the other room. He came in just to tend to Bruce. He bounced him around some in his arms and Bruce almost instantly settled down! He smiled and giggled and R’as just strolled around looking like a proud papa. I laid down for some rest and watched as he played with the babe and we chatted about how Bruce seems unable to settle down after feeding lately. He said that it’s because he is a baby ready to do big things. I couldn’t help but laugh at him! He says such hopeful things about our little babe. He would give us the world I think. He is quite cold most of the time but sometimes he can be so warm and paternal. He is a good man I think, but he likes things to be done his way. Anyways, Tom came in and turned red in the face with anger when he saw us. He made a snide comment on how we looked like a “happy family”. Of course, I reacted poorly to that. Did he not think of us as a happy family? I certainly do! My mother died when I was young and my father was not a kind man. To have a warm presence of someone like Sir here is a blessing. I always imagined my children having grandparents who were warm and welcoming. Tom is kind and his parents are pleasant to me, but I certainly wouldn’t describe them as a ‘warm group’. I think I am too hot-blooded at times. At least that is what my father would scream at me from time to time._

_We had a proper row over it though. Thomas insisted I liked R’as too much, which isn’t true. I like what he brings to our family. He is what I imagine a good father to be. He brings gifts when he visits. He sometimes will even cook. He makes me tea and has the servants rub my feet. He plays with Bruce and I’ve witnessed him helping the poor when out in the streets. Thomas insists it is a façade. That he acts this way because his family owes him a great debt and that R’as is some power-hungry monster. I swear Thomas is the most hyperbolic man I’ve ever met. Sometimes it’s a blessing, but right now it’s a curse. He insists that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. That may be so, but I have lived in hell and there are many roads there. At least let your family take the smoothest one there I say. He thinks he’s being the hero, but he doesn’t help me with the baby. He doesn’t bounce him like Sir or change him like the nursemaid. He doesn’t rub my back or feet like my helper does. I feel him growing more distant and there isn’t much I can do about this. But a woman’s greatest blessing is a child, and if I have the child and I am safe, what more could I need? Sit brought up the betrothal again. He told me a tale of how the city is like a kingdom that must be maintained. He made it sound like the old fairy-tales of King Arthur I would grow up reading. My Bruce could be a prince and Thalia his princess. Bruce would have a woman that is his match._

_August 29, 1939_

_I wish to go on vacation but Thomas isn’t having it. Sir has offered to take us to Morocco! He recently donated a quite large sum to the police and he insists we must celebrate his good deeds with a trip. Tom and I got into our biggest argument yet about it! He insists that I need to stay here, but I know he gets to travel for work. Sir tried to convince him to no avail. Thomas insists I stay here. I decided we needed a day out at least. He agreed. We went as a family to the park and to a wonderful restaurant by the pier! It was so nice. I pushed the stroller and we ate ice cream and just talked about nothing in particular. We strolled for what seemed all day. It reminded me of when we were courting. He was so soft and gentle. He had wanted to be an architect, but his father made him work in the business instead. That’s how he came to handle the land acquisition part of the business. He always had an eye for a lovely building. We giggled at each other’s jokes and he called me his ‘sparrow’. I hadn’t heard that name in a long time. I was walking on cloud nine! When we got home Lily had started cooking a lovely pot roast that Tom wanted no part of. He still fights against his sister being here. But Lily has been kind and helpful. This is what a family is supposed to be._

_June 8 th, 1942_

_Sir came for a visit! He brought me an emerald necklace and little Thalia was so happy to see Bruce. Her mother Taleah and I embraced and we chatted while Bruce opened his presents. Sir got him some lovely clothes from Russia, a ball, a picture book he had commissioned from an artist with the name Pollock, and a stuffed tiger. He allowed Taleah and us to go shopping and spend the day together while he and the maids watched the children. Thomas was away on a business trip and not due back for two days. When Taleah and I returned, Sir ate dinner with us. We all had tea and then he escorted his wife and the kids to bed. I read a book and after some time Sir fetched me. He escorted me to my room and kissed me goodnight on my forehead then my cheek. My face was absolutely on fire! I couldn’t sleep well that night. This morning I woke chipper and happy! Sir made us breakfast, a Turkish breakfast with yoghurts, bread, and eggs. He laid out a fruit salad and Thomas came in. He came back early. The fight that ensued was vicious. He wanted to kick out Sir and his wife but I begged him to allow them to stay. He agreed to one day. Then he made me stay either in the nursery or the bedroom the whole time. He brought me my meals there._

_September 15th, 1944_

_Bruce is such a happy little child. He’s so eager to learn anything and everything. He looks at everything and makes these funny little noises! He laughs so often, what a happy baby! Lily gave me a wonderful blanket that she knitted him. It was blue and green and had this wonderful heart in the center. Bruce took right to it and fell asleep. Today he was babbling so much, it was too cute! My heart could have burst from my chest! He looks at you when you call him now and I absolutely adore it._

_January 31 st, 1945_

_Lily and Tom got into a huge argument last night. They woke the baby with their shouting. I don’t know what started it, but when I rushed out to check on Bruce I saw Thomas throw the blanket into the fire! She was in tears, something I’d never seen from her before. He screamed that she was a traitor and a whore. She stuttered that her husband had to leave and that he was fine. Thomas slapped her and screamed that he knew he was a lie and she grew red in the face. I stepped in and quietly asked them to keep it down, but I didn’t realize I was crying. Lily wanted to come comfort me, but Thomas stopped her. I ran from them both and went into Bruce’s room to hold him. A bit after me came one of the nursemaids and I shooed her out so I could comfort him myself. I held him as they argued for what seemed to be hours. Then it stopped. I eventually fell asleep in the rocking chair with Bruce. When I woke in the morning Lily and half of the nursemaids were gone. Thomas was cooking breakfast and informed me that the chef was gone too. He fired everyone. He said the rest of the nursemaids were packing up to leave. They would be gone by noon. I took Bruce with me and ran upstairs to cry my eyes out. I felt like my whole world had fallen apart in an instant. He made such a big decision without me! If he is at work, it will just be me and the babe in this lonely house. It will feel so cold and empty. I love Bruce with all my heart, but I am still a person despite being a mother. I want someone with me. These will be troubling times for me._

_We fought fiercely over it in the afternoon. He wants to leave R’as and all that he has given us. He threw in my face the fact that we agreed to leave him out of our lives. But that was when we were engaged! I wanted to be part of the family! Sir has done nothing but treat us well. I never suspected him of anything and now he wants me to turn against him simply because of his own foul thoughts about him. Thomas even talked of surrendering the mansion! I told him that if he did, I would disappear as Lily had. He slapped me and told me to never say such a thing again. I cried so hard and he threatened to slap me again. Then he commented on how he finally understood why my own father had hit me growing up. He called me an obstinate child. This is our home! I bore a child and it has been given to his family! I deserve a say in Bruce’s happiness as well!_

_February 2 nd, 1945_

_Today I found a letter from Lily. It said that she will always look over me and Bruce, even if only in spirit. She said that she has been to serve a new role in the efforts against the man named Savage. At the bottom of the paper, a post office box number was scribbled. I begged Thomas to take us into town so I could buy clothes from the boutique by the office. He sat in a bar nearby while I ‘shopped’. When I went into the office a lovely young man led me to the back where a normal-looking post box had a black key hanging from the lock. I turned it and inside was a stack of money and a letter from Sir. It detailed that Bruce and I would never be without. That we are precious to him. I am like a sister to his wife, and Bruce is his son. I felt a warmth in me I didn’t know I could possess. I was not close to his wife, but to be considered so highly of Sir made me feel… needed. I thanked the man who showed me the mark of a dragon behind his ear. He said that this city would keep me and Bruce safe and happy. He gave me a slip of paper with information on it. He told me it was an account number for us to have money should I need to leave. He then gave me a gold pin, it was a gold circle with RA inside. He said that if I wore this, the city is mine and my sons’ on command of the Sir. He bowed. No one had ever bowed to me before. Sir is too kind. At least someone is thinking of me and my son._

_May 5 th, 1948_

_My little Bruce turns nine this year! I’m so excited! Our butler Alfred is helping me make a cake for him. It will be chocolate I think. R’as sent his gift and I picked it up at the Post office while I was out. Thomas does not know this. I go to the city with Bruce and he does not come with us, citing work as an excuse and then staying home to drink scotch with Alfred. I go into the city and I am able to live as I deserve. I bought a gorgeous mink coat today and I saw an exquisite diamond ring. I didn’t have enough cash on me but the woman gestured to my pin and told me that she could give me something better. She gave me a pearl necklace more elegant than any movie stars. She said I could just take it! I tried to refuse but she said that it was a much-belated baby shower gift from the Cobblepots. She asked me to pass that sentiment along to Sir and I saw her shaking. I accepted, of course, to make her feel a bit better. When I post him a letter I shall mention her. I haven’t much love for the Cobblepots, they think they can usurp the Wayne’s influence in the city, but I don’t fault them for trying. I don’t mention Sir to them because one of their gambling halls employs many blacks and they have suffered enough without another white woman ruining their livelihoods._

_A woman from the Kean family insulted me quite harshly at a luncheon once by implying I was some low-class harlot who sought to screw my way into any rich man’s heart. Her husband was flirting with me and I wasn’t exactly forthcoming about who I was initially, but she had no reason to speak to me in that manner! I slapped her and she spit in my face. I was about to retaliate but a black attendant came and grabbed her and started dragging her out. I noticed the small tattoo of the dragon coiled around an R tattooed behind his ear. I make it a practice to check now. I never saw that horrid woman anywhere again. Good riddance I say._

_May 7 th, 1948_

_Thomas has found my diaries. He knows. He knows about the money, the gifts, and the bodyguards. He knows everything. He tried to take the money from my bank account but no sane banker allowed him access. Finally, a manager came who was unmarked (I checked) and he allowed Thomas access. He gave Thomas a whopping $3.58. That was what the bank had on record as being in the account. Thomas was absolutely livid. He struck me something fierce on the way home. I didn’t reveal where the money was hidden. I probably never will. I know that is a significant amount and it is to go to Bruce if something should happen to me. Not if I die, but if I have to leave. Thank God Bruce was with Alfred. Thomas made me post a letter to Sir and tell him we no longer want him in our lives and that we need him gone altogether. He made me sign my name to it. I cried and when I couldn’t anymore he made me go in and send it. I’m writing this entry in the back of the picture book Bruce received as a child. I hope he can read this. Bruce, I want you to know that I will always love you. Sir will always love you. Your father loves you too._

_March 8 th, 1936_

_Johnathan and I went for a drive into town and saw a young couple holding hands happy as can be. The girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen and her beau was no more than twenty. She was waddling with her pregnant belly and I felt a pang of jealousy towards her. We have tried for so long. I am here, past twenty-two and unable to conceive still. I go to church every Sunday and pray every night. I say grace before meals. So why do I feel like God has forgotten me?_

_June 2 nd, 1936_

_John bought me a new dress and told me I was the prettiest thing he’s ever seen! It’s the color of the sky with a red sash. I cried when I tried it on. He said he got the money from selling some parts to an old car he found on our property. He’s such an angel! I made sure to make a nice pot roast to thank him. I didn’t put any bloomers on underneath. I hope he likes the surprise tonight._

_July 4 th, 1936_

_John took me to see the fireworks in town! What a lovely view! The sound was a bit scary, it always is, but I had a great time. We sat on the blanket in the park, he was behind me. His arms were wrapped around my waist and he kissed my neck when it would get dark in-between the rockets launching. He held me so tightly and I could feel his “manhood” was as eager as I was to get home. We didn’t make it home before we were together! We just did it in the truck. We had to park in someone’s field, and we didn’t even get to finish. A dog came barking and we knew the owner wasn’t far behind! We drove off like a bat outta hell! We have only been married two years, but it still feels like when we were dating. Sneaking around, hiding kisses. I love it. I want a baby, but perhaps not yet. Being a married woman is still a lot of fun!_

_July 8 th. 1936_

_Jimbo asked me to come with him to the town so he could buy supplies. I agreed and when we got there we picked up some groceries and he said he had to visit a friend. I went shopping in the clothes store and he eventually found me. He asked me for some money and I gave him what I had, my last two dollars. I didn’t see him again for a while. I couldn’t find him until the evening and he was drunk as a skunk and told me he’d had a good night. I drove us home and noticed he struggled to stay awake. He woke up at one point just long enough to put a hand on my thigh and tell me I’m prettier than his wife was when she was alive. Then he blacked out._

_July 30 th, 1936_

_Johnathan had to go into town with his father to help at a farm auction. I was home alone. I thought of him and touched myself for only the third time in my life. I prayed very sincerely afterward._

_August 1 st, 1936_

_Jimbo’s friends came over to play poker. Jimbo lost all his cash and one of his friends kept trying to pull my skirt up when I walked by. John threw him out on his drunk ass after the third attempt._

_August 12 th, 1936_

_Johnathan and I had to take his father to the doctor in town yesterday. The doctor told him that he was strong in spirit, but no man can fight old age forever. He has water in his lungs and a very nasty cough. Johnathan is a mess. His father told him to call a notary so that he can get his affairs in order and Johnathan refused. He doesn’t handle death well. My brother died of a farm accident when we were kids, so I told him I would help settle things. Jim, his father was always so kind to me. His mother didn’t see me as nothing, but Jimbo was soft-hearted. I got him the notary and we began drafting the last will and testament._

_August 14 th, 1936_

_Jimbo has passed. Johnathan was weeping at his bedside until the body went damn near cold. Every time I tried to hold him, I felt so powerless. I didn’t know what to do. I decided to start finding all the documents and deeds. I figured if I could gather all the paperwork together that could at least be something._

_August 18 th, 1936_

_I took the documents to the bank. Johnathan can’t bring himself to get out of bed, so I decided to support him in this. I went to the bank and show them the deed and tell them to put it into Johnathan’s’ name. You know what they tell me? They can’t. The bank owns the place. I tell them that aint possible and they show me the paperwork. Jimbo had done a ‘re-finance’ or something. He needed a lot of money very quickly and I don’t know why… I don’t think John knows._

_August 31 st, 1936_

_John is spiraling. He drinks a bit too much in the morning and way too much at night. He knows about the bank because they came to claim the house. He had to sell off half the land as a deposit before they were willing to put his name on the deed. Now he is responsible for making it right. I asked around town. Jimbo had a love of gambling but a skill for losing. He owed too much money to some bad folks. One of which owns the bank that currently is trying to take the house. I don’t know what to do…_

_September 18 th, 1936_

_I caught John drinking in the barn this morning. I told him off about it and he left me with a bloody lip and an apology._

_September 19 th, 1936_

_John came in drunk and accused me of not wanting a child. I told him I wanted one but I’m too busy keeping the farm and him together as his wife to be anyone’s mother. He didn’t agree. He told me he was gonna be a daddy. I told him to get some sleep and he said he’s gotta wear himself out first. I didn’t want to. But he held me down. I cried the whole time. But it’s fine right? He said it’s my wifely duties. It’s not a bad thing if your husband does it right?_

_December 3 rd, 1936_

_Something happened. We were out for a drive. John and I were arguing on the way to the drive-in movie. He was reeking of booze. And then we saw it. It was a bright light. It sailed right over us and landed in a field… We followed the smoke trail and found (I swear to our Father in heaven) a machine! Wasn’t no plane, it was… something that could fly I think but it wasn’t flying now. We put it on the truck and took it back home immediately._

_December 5 th, 1936_

_We’ve tried for two days to get this damn thing open. There’s a pod on the top, we can tell it opens. But we don’t know what’s inside. We can’t tell anybody yet. Maybe this could make us enough money to buy back the farm and then some! John hasn’t touched a drop since we found this thing. It’s a blessing!_

_December 6 th, 1936_

_Mother Mary and Joseph it opened this morning. It’s a baby. There’s a baby inside._


	14. Whoever is trying to bring you down is already below you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets his ticket back to Gotham but it comes in a far more threatening form than he would've hoped. The Kent family find themselves drawn into the turmoils of the Wayne life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly gee! Had to get my computer fixed so there was very little work done for a bit. Now, here's a new chapter! I wonder if I'll ever finish this story. Maybe never. I like having it serialized like the comic. It's fun to write and hopefully it's fun to read. If it's not, tell me haha!

Clark brought the cups of lemonade out and set them down on the table. He watched with interest as his father helped stitch up Nihin’s neck and she barely flinched. Her eyes were closed tightly and she merely frowned. Clark suddenly heard a low buzzing sound, like a bee flying around. He searched the room for it, but couldn’t find the bug. Then it grew louder and louder, filling his ears. He covered his ears and yelled, “Do you hear that?!” Everyone looked at him clearly startled, even Nihin opened her eyes. Bruce came out of the kitchen, “I don’t hear anything,”

 

“Me neither,” Zatara said. They all strained to hear it and Clark dropped to his knees, “It’s so loud! It’s coming this way! How can you not hear it?!” He opened his eyes briefly and realized that he started seeing colored spots. He felt his muscles get weak and then his arms fell to his side. Drool started coming out of his mouth before he fell unconscious. Bruce and Zatara rushed to his side and tried to shake him. Bruce looked at the mage and tried to ask him a question but no sound could be heard. It wasn’t that his voice was gone, but a type of silence filled the room that devoured any sound. Zatara’s eyes widened and he rapped his knuckles on the floor, but it made no sound. Martha fell to the ground unconscious without even a thud, and Nihin gently caught Johnathan as he followed suit. She took out a pocket knife and cut the thread to her stitches. She stood and headed for the door but her legs felt like lead, growing ever heavier. She was brought to all fours and felt drool starting to come from her own mouth. She looked over at Zatara who was trying to cast a spell, sparks briefly flying from his hands before dissolving into literal dust. Bruce was shaking as he held onto Clark’s body and watching in horror as everyone struggled. Zatara pulled a notepad from his cloak and a pen and quickly scribbled, “Black magic”. He slid it to Bruce who wrote, “Who?” Zatara shook his head and started scribbling something on the floor.

 

He rushed to the window and threw the curtains open but no light came in, just darkness as if it were night. The front door slowly opened and the body of Da Ye strode in, carrying her head, like a murderous Dullahan. Da Ye’s milky white eyes glowed as his mouth hung open, emitting a low rumbling sound that seemed to fill their bones. Then a portal opened in the front yard, blood red and scorching the earth underneath it. From it came a young man around twenty years old, clad in the same leather outfit as Nihin, bands of leather tied around him covering his torso, legs and down to his elbows. The rest of his arms were covered in tattoos of runes, as was his face, all of which were glowing a deep blue. His leather was a matte black and deep purple, the same color as the ties that bound his long hair up in a neat ponytail. His mouth was moving as he uttered spells and incantations.

He stepped out of the portal followed by a man in his forties with salt and pepper hair and a stocky build. He wore a grey three-piece suit and round glasses. As soon as he stepped out of the portal, it closed behind him. He spit on the ground quickly and nodded to the mage, “ _This_ is where she went? A fucking farm?”

The mage stopped murmuring gestured, “I have her body right here. The princeling is here, I know it. I can feel it.” The older man’s booming voice called out, “Little prince! Come out! I know you’re in there, the damned necromancer has told me. Step out and greet your teacher properly!” Bruce looked at Zatara, who nodded. Bruce stood, and walked past the resurrected body to the front door, “I am no prince.” He declared.

The man scoffed, “I assure you, R’as begs to differ. Come out here boy.” He gestured to come closer. Bruce took a few steps out onto the porch. The man nodded at the mage who quickly uttered a spell and Bruce felt pulled towards them as if on a string, his toes dragging across the ground. He finally stopped in front of the older man who couched down to be eye level with Bruce. Once his feet were solidly flat on the dirt, he felt his body stiffen. The mage uttered a few words and Bruce felt compelled to talk. “My name is Bruce Wayne!” he yelled out, his voice cracking a little. The man nodded, “Okay. You’re no hoax then. Handsome kid. I see why everyone is fighting over you. I have a son a little older than you. You know who I am?” Bruce shook his head. The man laughed and a big grin spread across his face, “I’m Mr. Tulles. Pleasure.” He stuck out a massive hand that Bruce hesitantly shook. He kept smiling warmly, “We were all very worried about you. Lots of things have happened since you left Gotham.”

“You knew I was gone? How? Who’s we?”

“Of course we did! The master keeps up with these things. ‘We’ consists of the whole outfit that’s in Gotham. Planners, mages, it’s a big thing.”

“Are you a Blade?”

“Hm? Heavens no. I have no stomach for blood. You know, I barely like magic. I help manage your family’s company until you come of age. Though Alfred doesn’t much like it…”

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Oh, he’s fine.” Tulles waved a hand as if swatting the concern away, “Grumpy and rough as ever though. When you go back though, don’t tell him that I work for the Master. He hired me as a business consultant and frankly, I rather like Gotham. My wife would kill me if the Master relocated me again.”

“You… have a family?”

“Yes! Wife and three kids! I have a head for numbers, so I’ve been fortunate enough to be given a desk job. I help manage the coffers and all that. You know that word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“My you're polite! I like that! Anyways, there’s been some real nasty business going on and I’d like it very much if you came home. Stay with Alfred in your own house even. Your friend can come visit for a bit! Either way, you need to come back.” Bruce suddenly felt his stomach turn and his palms sweat. He had wanted this for so long, but with it being dangled in front of him he no longer knew if he wanted to take it. “Why do I have to come home so quickly?”

“You want the hard truth or a soft lie?”

“Hard truth.”

“Figured as much. Kids your age like to try to be adults. Short version is the ambitious Mr. Savage is moving much quicker than any of us predicted. This has led to the Master wanting to consolidate certain… assets.”

“Am I… an asset?”

“No little prince, but your kingdom is. We need you in Gotham. We’ve let you and your little friends here play house long enough. The Master allowed it because he needed to settle some accounts, but things are getting hectic and we simply can’t have your nannies squabbling forever anymore. It’s time for some proper education.”

“I go to the best school in Gotham.”

“We are not talking about that kind of education.” Tulles booped Bruce on the nose, which made the young boy flinch. He pulled a piece of candy out of his pocket, unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth. He stood up and pulled another, offering it to the mage who gently plucked it from his hand and then offered Bruce the third. He shook his head, “I don’t eat a lot of sweets.”

“Oh! Weird kid. Did you eat sweets a lot as a kid Chiron?” The young mage shook his head and Bruce noticed the beads of sweat forming on his head. Tulles stuck a thumb up and gestured at him, “Let me be courteous I suppose. This is Chiron. I’m not sure why they named him that. Very solemn name for a child. Talented young whiz kid. Get it? Ha! Anyways, he’s a necromancer. You know that word?” Bruce nodded. Tulles took out a cigarette and lit it. He started walking towards the house, gesturing for Bruce to follow. “I hope the family doesn’t mind a bit of smoke. Anyways, this kid is one of the best we’ve got. Super great, makes a truly killer tart. I don’t know how he does it. Maybe it’s _black magic_!” He guffawed loudly at his own joke. He wrapped his arm around Bruce’s shoulders and led him back to the house. They stepped in and Tulles took a look around with a solemn expression. Then he shrugged and looked at Bruce, “Okay my little prince. Time to do a little prince practice. Chiron, come here.” The mage stepped inside and looked around curiously. Tulles took a drag of his cigarette, “First off, change this poor kid’s name. Chiron is no name for a young lad. What if he wants to get laid one day?! Ladies, or gents if the lad prefers, don’t want to hear _Chiron_. It’s simply medieval.” He guffawed again and saw from Bruce’s expression that he didn’t quite understand. He grinned, “Listen kid, the longer this spell goes on the worse it gets. You know what it’s doing? Literally subjugating their souls. This keeps up, everyone goes straight to Hell. Literal hell. Spell doesn’t even let them get judged at the Pearly Gates. So, we’ll let them go, but we do it in steps. First, rename your mage.”

 

Bruce swallowed hard at this and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He looked at the mage and nodded slowly, “Okay. You’re Tony now.” Tulles slapped Bruce on the back with a heavy hand, “Put more force into it boy!  You’re trading in his name for a less painful one for God’s sake! Oh? Is that lemonade? I’m gonna drink this, I’m parched.” He took a sip from one of the glasses and Bruce caught a brief look of disgust on his face as he glanced down at Nihin. He looked at Bruce and smiled again. Bruce looked at Chiron and met his golden eyes. Chiron was unafraid of the child before him and Bruce knew it, but he wasn’t about to let everyone in the room suffer because of it. He summoned up his voice and loudly roared, “Your name is Tony now! Let everyone go!” The mage looked at Tulles who shrugged in a “why not?” gesture. The mage released the spell. And Zatara and instantly vomited all over the floor covered in spell inscriptions he didn’t finish. The walking corpse of Da Ye dropped lifeless a second time. Nihin was writhing on the floor, making gurgling sounds, while clutching her throat. Tulles shook his head, “I sent Da Ye because I thought she’d win, but I also could afford to lose her if she didn’t. Must’ve been a helluva fight. Sad I missed it. In a perfect world, she would’ve killed a snake like you.” He put a large boot on Nihin’s side and the look of disgust was openly on his face now. “The Master wants you alive. We had to sacrifice one of our _best_ to get the prince. While the kid is worth it, I can’t say I agree that you are. But here we are.” He waved at her struggling form and the Tony the mage spoke a few words that caused her to violently vomit as her throat slowly healed. She began gasping for air and small groans could be heard from Clark as he stirred. Zatara struggled to his feet, “Hell of a spell you little bastard.” Tulles kneeled and put the cigarette out on the back of Nihin’s neck causing her to yelp in pain. He strode over to Zatara, “I didn’t think to find another wizard here. What do they call you huh? You came with _her_?” He practically spat the word out. Bruce stood in front of Zatara, “Don’t talk about her that way.”

 

“Oh? Now he speaks eh? Well, I gotta say, it’s about time.” Tulles grinned again and threw his hands onto Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce felt how heavy they were as they squeezed him, “Next time boy, don’t take so long to speak up. You got something to say, you say it. You’re gonna be a man. I mean, don’t fight me on every little thing. Let me tell you, Master put me in charge for a reason.” He stood up straight and guffawed, “Though I’ll admit to dropping the ball on this one. I let the ashtray over there spirit you away and I’m not gonna lie, it was a devil of a time to find you to get you back.” He looked around then decided to sit in the chair closest to the window. He lit another cigarette and took a drag that he clearly enjoyed. As he exhaled the smoke he appeared through it like a dragon.

 

His tan skin was dry and his crooked nose had clearly been broken. His thin lips held the cigarette as he searched his coat pockets for something and found it in his inner pockets. He took out a small notepad with a pen attached. He flipped it open and took another drag of the cigarette. “Okay, little prince, who are your friends here? Do I have to kill any of them?” Bruce was completely caught off guard but remembered his breathing from the time he lied to Clark. He steadied himself mentally, “Depends. What would you need to kill them for?”

“Attaboy! Smart little thing you are! I like it! Did any of them harm you?”

“No.” Tulles looked at Chiron/Tony who waved a hand Bruce gagged a little. He coughed and a blue rose petal fell out of his mouth. Tulles shook his head, “Someone just fibbed a little. You see how this goes now? So let’s try another one. If I wanted to kill someone here, would you stop me?” A cough and Bruce pulled a red petal out of his mouth. Tulles grinned, “If I told you to come back to Gotham right now, would you go without a fight?” Bruce felt his chest tighten and the air was cut off. He started coughing but nothing was coming out. The cough got harder and harder. Tulles nodded, “Okay, not sure. Let’s make a deal. Chi-Tony here will put a tracking spell on you. The wizard here fucks off to wherever he came from and I and Nihin head back tonight. Tony stays here. He’ll teleport you back tomorrow.”

Tony waved a hand again and Bruce could breathe again. He shook his head as he gasped for air, “No deal. Tony can stay, but so does Nihin. Zatara leaves, and I come back to Gotham tomorrow. No tracking spell.”

“Bullshit. Tracking spell, Tony stays. Nihin and Zatara stay, I come back later tonight.”

“Eek. That’s somehow worse. Too much magic for my own tastes. Tracking spell. Zatara leaves, Tony leaves, Nihin comes back with me. I come get you in the morning.” Bruce and Tulles tried to stare each other down, but Bruce could feel himself wavering first. “Why does she have to go with you? Will you kill her?”

“Heavens no. The Master isn’t happy with her though. She has to go. She has to answer for her crimes.”

“She killed Da Ye to protect me.”

“That’s not the crime I’m referring to my little prince. She took you from the R’as. Kidnapped you! And worse yet, she _lied_.”

“To who?”

“To us _all_ little prince. She lied to you, to the Master, to Da Ye. She cannot be trusted.”

“Tell me what she lied about and I’ll believe you.”

“I… don’t think that’s wise. You will find out but it’s not my place to say. You _will_ get her back, I promise you. But first she has been called and she must answer. If she does not come with me the Master has given me the order to treat your friends here as accomplices and kill them all.”

“I thought you didn’t like blood.”

“Heavens, I don’t, but Tony here can’t get enough of the stuff. And believe me when I say that while your wizard here is quite capable, Tony will give him a run for his money.” Bruce turned to look at Nihin who lowered her eyes. She clenched her hands, her usual fire and passion drained out of her. Somehow Bruce knew Tulles had said something that truly hit home for her. Bruce clenched his jaw and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at Clark who gave him a look full of sympathy. Bruce whispered so softly, “I don’t know what to do.”

Clark nodded and leaned in to whisper, “Do what you need to do. No matter what.”

 

Chiron/Tony grabbed the glass of lemonade off the table and handed it to Tulles who took a deep sip, “This is some damn good lemonade. You guys are _farmers_? What a waste. Who made this? Wanna come teach my wife how to make it for me?” He howled with laughter then took a long sip. He held the glass up, “Tony, you have to try this, it’s dynamite.” The dark mage took it and took a sip, “That is pretty good.” His voice was soft and almost sweet. Clark shook his head and leaned in, “Bruce listen. The wizard is powerful and that’s scary and all. But I want you to realize, this guy they sent it your new _tutor_. We just saw a woman walk through walls and there are two wizards in my living room. Imagine what this guy can do. Make a deal.” Bruce nodded, “Tracking spell. Tony and I stay here. Everyone else leaves. We go back to Gotham in the morning. My friend and his family come with me.” Johnathan jumped up angrily, “We are not-” Martha grabbed the front of his shirt and shook her head. Tulles stuck out a hand that Bruce shook firmly. He got up from his chair, “Damn good dear my boy. I’ll take the nursemaid back. If all goes right, you’ll see her in a week. Tell the wizard here to get lost. If I see hide or hair of him tomorrow I’ll have the whole farm obliterated. You know that word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Smart smart. I like it. Pack your things today yeah? Spend the night. Enjoy yourself. You’ve got time. Chiron-I mean Tony. I’ll come to get you bright and early at ten yeah? Make sure to eat breakfast, once we get to Gotham we swing by my place and then you hit the ground running. Oh! Speaking of running! If you try, you won’t get away. This lovely family here will be turned into dust. I’ll burn the whole farm down, or at least Tony will. So, just… be a good boy and be ready tomorrow?” He looked at Clark with a wink, “What’s your name kiddo?”

“Clark.”

“You two best of pals?” Clark smirked and answered proudly, “We’re lovers.”

Tulles guffawed loudly and pat Clark on the shoulder, “That requires you two to have sex and you have nothing but the stink of wanting and mother’s milk about you. I like it though. Very romantic. Love at first sight. I knew I loved my wife the moment she held that knife to my throat in training. She’s a goddamn goddess. May your love last forever.” He winked at Johnathan and Martha who stood stunned and bowed. “I’m gonna be out of your hair. Don’t worry. Stay in Gotham a while. My people will see to it that the house will be fixed up. If you want anything added, a bathroom or what have you let me know. We’ll take care of it all, on our dime of course.” He opened the front door and Tony went out to start opening a portal. Once the hellish portal was torn open Tulles looked at Zatara, “You first wizard. We’re sending you somewhere good. Hawaii! Have a mai tai and relax huh?” Zatara peered into the portal for a while, then back at Nihin who nodded. He ruffled Bruce’s hair, “Be good while I’m gone okay? I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” He stepped into the portal and it closed.

 

Tony began summoning another one, “This is our ride dear.” Tulles said to Nihin. She came out and he grabbed her roughly by the arm. He turned to look back at Bruce, “Ten am alright son? Don’t be late!” He shoved Nihin in before she could turn to say anything and strolled through casually. Bruce didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his face until Clark came with a tissue. He wiped Bruce’s face and Bruce buried his face in his chest and cried. Clark held him and Tony came back and was clearly uncomfortable with the scene. He cast a spell to get Da Ye’s body to walk and it followed him as he strolled towards the fields. He stopped short of the field line, turned and yelled, “Can I bury her in here? Or do you have another place for her?” Martha came out, her face was pale and she was fiddling with her skirt, she pointed to the fields past the barn, “Out there are the fallow ones. You can take her there!” He nodded and just started walking off with the dead body trailing behind him. Johnathan came out and grabbed the back of her neck to move her out of his way. She barreled towards Clark and separated the boys. He screamed in Clark’s face, “My son is no faggot! Why would you say that?!” Clark’s face drained of all color and Martha ran to grab Bruce and pull him away. Clark felt his cheeks get hot and he exclaimed, “I just saved our _lives_. If Tulles thinks Bruce and I are closer than friends, maybe, just _maybe_ they’ll be more open to letting us walk away from this!” Johnathan found himself at a loss for words as Clark continued, “You think they would just let some farmers in Smallville walk off after what we’ve seen? No chance in hell! For God’s sake, Tulles pulse is barely even human.”

 

Everything stopped for a second. Bruce’s voice cut through the silence first, “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean his heart rate is like, 3 times what it should be. It’s weird. And I can’t be sure, because there were a lot of things going on, but I think he might be as strong as I am.” Johnathan took a step back, “How do you know son?”

“Because when he held Nihin, he snapped her arm like a twig. I heard it. It literally shattered.” They all waited in silence for Tony to come back, his hands covered in dirt. He looked around, “I’m not sure if this is bad form, but I took some dirt. It’s in case I have to bind her body there. Also, when do we eat dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You guys are the best!!!


	15. It takes Tulles to Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham. The group makes it back to the city but they can't go in quite yet. But why? Finally, a glimpse into what has everyone so spooked and Bruce gets a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahaha, I'm back! For a while. Production schedules are hard to write around, but I like this story so I find a way. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Alfred poured a freshly brewed cup of coffee and added a spoon of sugar and some cream. He stirred it idly as he thought about what Bruce could be up to. After he sent him away, he wrote him letters that he put in boxes, never mailed. He couldn’t afford to mail them, Nihin was adamant against him being sent away at all and stressed how people would come looking for him. He didn’t want to risk anyone finding out where Bruce was. He wasn’t quite sure what to do now though. The Kents certainly can’t raise Bruce for him, but he couldn’t have him in Gotham. He needed time to think about the next step and now that he had it, he couldn’t work out what it would be.

 

 He sat down at the kitchen table covered in paper, envelopes, pens, and reports. He looked over the documents and glanced at the ledger pages and reports from places he’s never been detailing the accomplishments of Wayne Industries. He had hired a business manager a couple of months prior who has been gently pushing Alfred out of the business side of things, but who keeps a close eye on everything to report back. Leonard Tulles was a godsend for Alfred, he was a keen businessman that helped Alfred make sense of the scale of the Wayne investments and wealth. Alfred knew that he would soon be superfluous but he preferred it that way. He didn’t join the army to end up going to meetings and reading safety inspection reports. This simply wasn’t his calling. Normally Tulles would have compiled all of these reports with notes on the pages for Alfred to better understand them. He’d already rooted out three employees who were embezzling and had them arrested. He’d explained business terms and documents and he would deliver reports daily to the manor before going home. He was congenial and clever when they would chat. But he was on vacation for a few days. Despite this he still had his assistant deliver the reports daily to the manor.

 

Alfred got along well with him and with everything going on, he realized that outside of Nihin, Leonard might be the closest thing Alfred has to a friend. While he carried deep respect (and small attraction) for Nihin, he knew she was at odds with what he wanted for Bruce. Even if she did care for him dearly. When she left, Alfred had mixed feelings. The house was always large, but suddenly it felt massive. He didn’t know she even existed before, but during the dinner, they all shared he felt comforted. It was sudden but it didn’t feel unwelcome. He realized then how much he would have appreciated the help and support for the house. He realized how Bruce came to lean on her and how much that helped him.

 

With Leonard overseeing the business Alfred finally had time to breathe. But now that he had time to breathe it also left him time to think. He finished his coffee quickly and poured another, but instead of sugar and cream he added a coffee liqueur he had picked up. He gulped it down and closed his eyes. He started thinking about the smile on Bruce’s face as he joked about what he learned from Nihin. He talked about it so casually that it was like a day at school for him. How happy he was to show Alfred his combat moves and how he swore to join the Army like Alfred did. Then he remembered how Nihin stood to correct a low kick, she had a great figure underneath all that threatening clothing and leather. She was so stubborn, fighting him on everything, but ready to bring Bruce into line. They ate a great meal and sent Bruce into another room while they chatted.

 

 She poured the wine and they talked about everything but the important things. She told him she was a mother who lost her son. She told him that she serves the R’as but her loyalty is to herself and what she holds dear. He felt that was something that she didn’t normally share with others. She had leaned across him for the bottle at one point and he noticed she smelled like roses and leather. Alfred opened his eyes and poured himself another drink, sans coffee. He glanced down to notice he had gotten hard. He gulped down his drink and grabbed a tissue. He plopped down in a chair and closed his eyes, to imagine her figure sliding against his. He was about to masturbate when the phone rang. He swore under his breath and got up to answer it, “Hello?” he answered gruffly.

“Alfred? Is that you?” He recognized the young voice on the line instantly. “Bruce? Bruce is that you?”

“Yes! I’m so happy to hear your voice!”

“Bruce I-I am too. I told you not to call me though. You could be in danger.”

“It’s fine. I’m… on a trip. We’re coming to Gotham. I can come for a visit!”

“Bruce I don’t think that’s a good idea. Where are the Kents’? Let me speak to Johnathan or Martha okay?”

“Hm okay.” There was the sound of the receiver being moved around and some whispers. A woman’s voice came on the line, sweet but stern, “Hello Alfred.”

“Martha! Bruce said you’re coming to Gotham. Is everything alright? Are you on the run?”

“Heavens no. We are… on a family vacation is all! Bruce has missed you terribly Alfred. Let the boy see you at least once okay? He doesn’t need you to be hard at a time like this.”

“At a time like what? Martha, please tell me if something is going on.”

“We’re fine Alfred. I promise. Let’s meet up okay? We won’t come to the mansion, we can get milkshakes or something. The boys love those!”

“That’s… that’s fine. When?”

“How’s tomorrow? We’ll be in Gotham by then. We’ll ring you then and pick a place okay?”

“O-Okay. How is he, Martha? Is he… Do you think he’s still…?”

She lowered her voice, “He knows why you did it. He’s a smart kid. He loves you, Alfred. Just see him.” We’ll talk tomorrow dear. Get some rest. Lay off the sauce. I can hear your slurrin’ from here.”

-Click-

 

Alfred hung up slowly and went to the bathroom to wash his face. He noticed his dark mustache had grown wild and full. His hair was past his ears and messy and his slender face was now on the verge of looking gaunt. There were heavy bags under his brown eyes and the laugh lines around the corners of his eyes did him no favors. The corners of his thin lips dropped into a frown and he decided to at least attempt to clean up.

 

Martha hung up the phone and looked at Bruce who sat next to her on the hotel bed looking at her expectedly. She smiled softly, “Are you excited?”

“Yes, but you don’t seem very happy about this Mrs. Kent.”

“Oh honey, I’m just tired. Everything that happened the past couple of days is catching up with me. I get that your magic friend couldn’t take us right into Gotham, but this motel bed is aching my back.” She stood up and stretched. Bruce picked up a small notebook from the nightstand and starting writing odd letters and symbols in it. Martha smiled, “You and Clark been thick as thieves with that book. What’s in it? Love letters?”

Bruce blushed, “No, just notes on the trip. A lot happened. I wanna try to make sense of it all.”  
“Huh, ain't that the truth. Well when you do, let me know okay?” He giggled, “I will.”

“Hey, how about when Clark and the men get back we all get some ice cream hm? We’ve been cooped up for a while. I’m sure Tulles will let us get some fresh air.”

“Okay. I’m gonna get two scoops. One chocolate, one strawberry.”

“Sounds good. I’ll get one. Too much of a good thing makes a woman fat ya’ know.” They laughed and there were knocks on the door. Five, then three, then five, then two, then six. In came Tulles, Tony, Clark, and Johnathan carrying bags filled with food, snacks, and books. Tulles tipped his hat to Martha as he came in before setting it on the dresser. He looked at Bruce, “Always tip your hat to a lady and never wear it inside. I make myself clear son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good lad. We’ve got some local cuisine and brought some good news. I stopped by the post for some mail. Seems we’re all clear to enter Gotham! We’ll have an escort take us into the city and we’ll stay at the Aviary Hotel. Owned by Wayne Inc. of course. Much swankier than this place, I promise.” He grinned and started setting dishes out on the table. Bruce and Martha perused the selection. Clark set his bags down and came over to look as well, sliding a hand on Bruce’s back and leaning into him. Johnathan put his bags down and quickly left the room again with a hurried, “I need a smoke.”

 

Tulles looked at Martha, “No fan of a queer love I take it?” She shook her head. He shrugged, “I’m not crazy about it myself, but I get it. If we could choose who we loved, well, Ancient Greece would’ve been far less chaotic and much more boring.” He winked at her and she tried to hide a smile as she rolled her eyes. Tony brought plates over and handed them out to everyone. Bruce noticed he didn’t keep one for himself, “You always do this. You never eat with us. You’re not hungry?” Tony shook his head slightly but didn’t look Bruce in the eye. Tulles laughed and clapped the wizard on the back, “He’s been trained to never eat with his master you know. You want him to eat like an equal? By all means. It’s hard to boss servants who don’t know their place though.”

“He’s not a servant. He’s my… friend. Kind of. He’s my wizard. And he’s allowed to eat with us like a normal person.” Tulles shrugged, “I like seeing you throw your weight around kid. I do. He can take my plate. I gotta run out for one more errand anyways. I’ll be back in thirty.” He passed his plate over as Clark fixed a plate of food and handed it to Bruce. He started fixing another for himself. Martha ruffled her son’s hair, “You’re too sweet.” Tony picked up the plate uneasily and slowly started fixing a plate of food. Tulles took out a notepad and wrote some notes down, “I gotta get some things for the company worked out. I’ll be back.” He left and they all sat down to eat their spaghetti.

 

They ate in silence at first, then Clark wiped sauce from the corner of Bruce’s mouth. Martha frowned, “Honey, I know you two lovebirds are ready to do your thing now, but we’re eating.” Clark giggled, “So I can’t do this?!” He leaned over and kissed Bruce on the cheek. The boys giggled and Martha sighed loudly. Tony grinned and looked away. Clark looked at him, “Hey Tony. Can you talk?” Tony, genuinely surprised, furrowed his brow, “Of course I can.” His voice was deep, almost too deep for his young-looking face. Everyone else gasped. Martha grinned and patted him on the shoulder, “Well, the last thing we need is another talker. You and Bruce are men of few words, and I gotta say I like it!” They all laughed as they ate their piping hot spaghetti. Johnathan was outside listening to the cheer and clenching his fist. He wanted so badly to be part of moments like these, but seeing his son like that pained him somehow. He was already so different, why would he choose to make his life harder for himself with a love like this?

 

Johnathan came into eat about half an hour later. Martha was watching TV, Tony was writing runes in a book and casting small spells that shimmered and smelled like the ground after it rains. The boys were watching him, side-by-side and fascinated. Bruce would ask questions afterward that Tony gave curt answers to and Clark would write down notes as quickly as he could. When Johnathan closed the door Martha looked over and nodded to acknowledge him, but other than that he felt invisible as he sat down to eat his room-temperature food.

 

Tulles had just given the last assassin their orders as he looked at the map of the city one last time. He sighed and straightened his back. There was a knock on the office door and he bellowed, “Enter!” A massive man in his forties came in, with a young girl in tow. She looked to be about ten and she wore the scarlet robes of a Blade acolyte. They bowed and Tulles raised his eyebrows, “My goodness she’s grown fast! Shiva yeah? I remember when you were a smaller whelp than you are now! How’s your training?”

“It’s going well sir, thank you.” She replied firmly. He nodded and looked at the man, “Tell me good news Horatio. I need it. I want to move the boy into the city.”

Horatio shook his head, “It’s worse than we thought. All of our intel pointed to Savage being behind the raids, but he’s not. He’s capitalizing on the chaos for sure, but, he’s not the source. We are almost completely certain he doesn’t know the locations of the pits. He hasn’t moved any major forces to destroy any of them. We think the violators are part of some kind of death cult.”

“What? You’re shitting me. Are you positive?”

“Yes, we’ve found one of their hideouts. We launched an attack to kill and capture them. There were maps, ritualistic altars. The whole nine. There were bird skulls on all of the altars, it looked like Santeria. It was… unsettling. We even sent Shiva in, she managed to catch their leader. But they all managed to kill themselves.”

“How? What about the one we captured?”

“Dead sir. We don’t know how. No cyanide. No pills. He just dropped stone cold dead. We think they’ve been… building under mausoleums. They might have a necromancer. We think it… unwise to investigate areas like that without our own spellcaster. But we found the hideout under one of the biggest cemeteries in Star City. We don’t know how large this organization spreads...”

“How likely is it that they have any roots or agents in Gotham?”

“We… aren’t sure yet sir. But we have increased security around the pit.”

“Good good. Listen, the young lord is back in town. You will take over his martial training. Have him train with Shiva. He must get very good very quickly. I have a feeling this will be a bit trickier than any of us expected.” He took out his notepad and scribbled down some notes. He nodded as he put it back into his pocket. Horatio and Shiva bowed deeply and took their leave. Tulles ran his hand through his hair and sighed, “Tiffany is gonna kill me when I tell her I’m gonna be working late. Damn… I miss my kids.”

When Tulles came back, he was clearly stressed. His cool demeanor couldn’t hide the bags under his eyes. He came into the room quietly and saw that the Kents were watching TV together on the bed. Clark was reading a book and Tony and Bruce were sitting on the floor playing Slaps. It was rare for Leonard Tulles to see anyone in the League of Shadows have much of anything resembling a mortal life. He had already sent his report in and now just waited for R’as to come in and no doubt double his workload. He sat down and ate his cold spaghetti before he felt a presence behind him. He turned around to see Bruce peeking over the bed at him. He smiled and gestured for him to join him at the table. Bruce crawled over on his hands and knees and pulled himself onto a chair. Tulles chuckled, “Still a kid huh? What’s going on lad?”

“You look tired.”  
“I think we all are kiddo. You ate?”

“Yeah. Oh… yes, sir.”

“Good. Tomorrow, we gotta take you into Gotham. Buy all of you some clothes. Then I gotta surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“If I tell you, then it ain't a surprise.”

“You can tell me and I can act surprised.” Tony chuckled behind Tulles who couldn’t help but smile. “Be a good lad and don’t harass me about this. You’ll find out tomorrow when I surprise you with this.” He ruffled Bruce’s hair, “You’re a good kid. I’m sorry all this is happening to you.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” Bruce got up and fixed his hair, “Cause I’m the only kid strong enough to handle this.” Tulles busted out laughing, “Aint that the fucking truth!”

 

While the adults busied themselves with things Bruce wrote a coded message in the notebook, “Pet Stonewall End Duet Tee.” He slid it over to Clark who read it, “Oh, this one is hard. Geez, Bruce. Can’t you be a little dumber like the rest of us?” They laughed as Clark started writing notes. Tulles looked over at Tony and the Kents’ and mouthed, “What are they doing?” Tony shrugged and Martha mouthed, “Playing a game.” He nodded and watched as the boys whispered amongst themselves over the book. Right as it was bedtime, Clark slid the solved problem over to Bruce who nodded. They nodded together and Clark ripped out the page, went to use the bathroom and flushed it. He took one last glance as “We need to get Tulles notebook” disappeared down the drain.

When everyone was asleep, Clark got up for a cup of water. He walked over the floor so quietly he practically drifted. He poured a cup and stopped before it got to his lips. He looked around. A pitch-black room for others, but not for him. On the other side of the door was a figure. A large one. With a smaller one behind him. Clark walked over to Bruce’s bed and nudged him gently. When Bruce began to stir he covered his mouth and shook his head. He pointed at the door and held up two fingers before gently tapping his chest over his heart. Bruce nodded and began to wake Tony. Tony sat up groggily and Bruce leaned over, “There are two people outside the door.” Tony’s eyes widened and he slipped out of bed. He began an incantation and stood in front of the boys. He brought his hands together as if in prayer and pulled them apart to show electric blue thread between them. He quickly braided the thread and a heavy thud could be heard. Suddenly a small figure busted open the door, sword gleaming in the light. Everyone else jumped up as she lunged straight for the wizard. He barely dodged her sword swing and stepped back to dodge the next. Clark got behind her and grabbed her hands, which she tried pulling herself out of. Tulles quickly ran over, “Okay okay! Everyone calm down! This is a big mix-up! Let her go!”

Clark looked at Bruce who nodded and then he obliged. She slipped back out of the room and came back in and said, “Horatio can’t get up.”

Johnathan angrily bellowed, “Who the hell is Horatio?!”

Tulles ran his hand through his hair, “Bruce’s new tutor. Surprise!”

 

When spells were undone Tulles sat down at the table, “Listen, this wasn’t meant to be anything. They’re security. Our escorts into the city tomorrow. Best we’ve got. I didn’t think _anyone_ here-” He looked at Clark sharply, “Would be able to know they were here. Good on you I suppose. Maybe we just need _you_ to protect Bruce.”

“I’m the only protection he needs,” Clark said smugly. Tulles shrugged, “I’m sure, but we still must err on the side of caution. Maybe your parents will let you join our little organization, we could use your skills-”

The Kents’ both adamantly yelled, “No!” Tulles laughed, “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Get some rest everyone. They’re the good guys. Tomorrow we enjoy Gotham. Like, on vacation. No ninjas or spells or anything. It’s gonna be great!”

 

The next morning everyone woke up feeling even more sluggish than before. Horatio and his kid sidekick were gone. Martha and Johnathan went to pick up breakfast for everyone. Everyone else took turns showering and when it was Tulles turn, Bruce noticed Tulles took his coat into the bathroom with him. He looked over at Clark and Clark shook his head. Clark leaned in, “Sorry, I think we gotta wait.” And quickly kissed Bruce on the lips. Bruce grew crimson and smiled, “You didn’t need to kiss me. This is serious stuff.”

“I know. But that’s why I gotta kiss you now. In case it turns _too_ serious.” Tony pointedly ignored the lovebirds but made a mental note that whatever they were doing might not, in fact, be the game they all thought.

 


	16. Everyone's got a plan until their punched in the face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting into Gotham, acceptance comes in odd places for Bruce and Clark. Back on home turf, new rules are put in place and new goals are set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this chapter got crazy long. I hope it makes up for my erratic upload schedule! As always, I'm always so grateful to everyone who reads this, cause I feel like you're all one update away from just telling me "WRAP IT UP ALREADY" (Which is fair, I wouldn't be mad!) This is the chapter I've been waiting for and I'm glad I finally got to upload it!

Gotham was lovely. The weather was clear and warm, and the city was alive with people. Clark had never seen so many people in one place before. He saw black men and women in suits and summer dresses walking the streets. There were shops selling instruments and food and musicians on the street playing upbeat tunes inspired by New Orleans itself. Two non-descript black cars drove the group into the city: Clark, Martha, Tony, and Shiva in one, everyone else in the other. Tony sat in-between the boys in the back while Shiva sat upfront with Martha. She had her arm around the small frame of the girl who was clearly uncomfortable with the touch. She would point out the window, “Clark, look there! Aren’t the dresses there lovely?!” Which would cause Clark (and Shiva though she would try to hide her interest) to lean over and peek out the window. He felt his heart racing and even though he was flooded with the chaos and cacophony of the city, he loved it. It was like swimming in an ocean of senses. The driver was a young black woman sporting a dapper fitted zoot suit, “Well miss, once we settle you into the hotel, I’ll bring you around this area. My cousin owns a lovely boutique, we’ll fix you upright!” Martha beamed at the woman, “I’d like that! I gotta say, it’s nice having another woman to talk to. I’m… a bit surprised they let a woman like you drive though…”

“Oh, the Dragon R’as treats us all as equals. He made sure my family gets a good education. I never get treated like a Negro. I’m just a person.”

“The Dragon is what you call him huh?”

“We call him Dragon, everyone else calls him Demon.”

“Why’s that?”

“Dragons are nearly immortal, wise, and powerful. But… sometimes our leader has to do bad things to others when things get tough you know? Protect his family. So other’s call him a demon. They just don’t see what he’s trying to do for us.” Martha could see the conviction in the young woman’s face. Even after everything she had seen, she felt the power of this woman’s sense of freedom and suddenly, it made sense why so many would commit to this man. She smiled warmly at the driver, “You’re a very lucky woman.”

“I am miss. I really am.”

“It’s a hard world for women sometimes. I feel that now more than ever. Past few days I’ve only been stuck with the less fair sex, just been surrounded by all this-” she waved her hand at the company in the car and the women laughed. Shiva smiled slightly. Clark looked at Bruce, “Is she referring to us?” Bruce nodded and Clark jokingly nudged his mom, “Not nice ma! But do you see all this?! This is amazing! There are so many people! Sooo many! I can… tell.” He grinned and Martha took on a slightly worried tone as she replied, “Is it too much for you?”

He shook his head, “No. This is just right.” Martha smiled and looked down at Shiva, “What’s your name dear?”

“Shiva.”

Bruce leaned forward and looked Martha in the eyes solemnly, “I think she’s Da Ye’s daughter.”

Martha gasped, “Oh… oh my gosh. Oh well…”

Shiva shrugged, “I already know my mother is dead. The traitor Nihin killed her.” Bruce visibly bristled at the remark, “Nihin isn’t a traitor.” Shiva turned to face him, “How would you know? You’re practically a traitor too. If you weren’t the prince of this city we would’ve-” Bruce’s eyes narrowed, “You would’ve _what_?” The driver shifted in her seat some. Martha smacked Bruce on the forehead and then popped Shiva on the thigh, “Sit back before you get yourself killed. And you missy, don’t go making threats to people unless you have the strength or permission to follow through, you hear?” They were both too shocked to resist. Bruce sat back and Shiva nodded. Clark tried to hide his laughter and Tony could barely contain his smile. Martha felt good. She didn’t know why, but she did. She knew the chaos in the past few days should leave a normal person on edge, but she was a farmer, and farmers have to be ready to deal with the unexpected. Maybe what she _liked_ was the unexpected. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. Her son was happy. She was happy. They seemed safe. They were on vacation!

The car stopped at a red light and Martha pointed out the window, “Look at that yellow dress there! That would look lovely on little Miss Shiva here!” The driver leaned over to look, “Yeah, that dress _is_ mighty fine.” Martha looked at her, “When we go shopping, you have to try one on like that. The color would look stunning on you sweetheart.”

 

They arrived at an elegant building with fountains made of marble and statues of cherubs pouring water out of jars. The building stood thirty stories high, with columns of marble holding up the front entranceway. Granite and gold adorned every section of the place and when they all got out of the cars in front of it, even Bruce couldn’t help but stare. They were greeted by a concierge who had bellhops lined up outside the hotel ready to take their bags. They were like a military unit as they marched out to get the bags and the man bowed in front of Tulles, “Welcome Mr. Tulles. We’ve been expecting you and company. Ah! This must be the Kents’ you’ve gushed about! Wonderful! Pleasure to meet you all. I’m Grant if you need anything please just ask. I am always ready to serve.” He began leading them into the building. A young woman hustled over with a tray full of warm towels, followed by another woman with a tray of champagne. They offered it to the guests, Martha gingerly plucked up one of each and Johnathan took the towel to wipe his face down. Shiva laughed as the boys tried to hit each other with their towels.

 

Johnathan gently said, “Cut it out, we’re somewhere classy.” They were all lead to an elevator that took them to the top floor. The concierge Grant was chatting away happily during the ride, “The Aviary is _the_ first hotel in Gotham. We were bought by Wayne Inc. about thirty years ago and turned into the premier luxury destination in the city. Due to our… particularly good location, we are no doubt a valued asset to the Wayne company.” He nodded to Bruce, “We have put you all on the top floor. The entire floor will be yours. Whatever you want, you’ll get. We have drivers, cooks, seamstresses, all on call.” The elevator doors open and he lets them out. The hallway is alabaster white with a plush royal blue carpet. The doors are emerald green with golden knobs. He steps out and gives Johnathan, Tulles, and Horatio a key, “These keys are to your rooms. The arrangement is as follows, the lovely Kents will be in one room of their own. Mr. Tulles will be residing with our young owner master Bruce and Chiron, and Horatio shall be in another room.” Clark’s brow furrowed. Bruce looked over and they exchanged a quick look. Tulles turned to the group, “Okay kids. From here on out, you guys are free to explore the city. Kents’ you are free to roam around the city. If you want a guide, just ask at the desk and they will provide you one.”

“What about me? Can I go with them?” Bruce cheerily asked.

“No. You will have training in the morning with Horatio. Then lunch with me as we handle some lessons, and _then_ if we both think you got good marks for the day, you can spend the evening and dinner with them.”

Bruce slumped his shoulders forward, “But its summerrr, I’m not even in _regular_ school. Can I have one day off? Please?”

“Well since you put it that way, how about two days off?!”

“Really?!”

“Of course! It’s called the weekend! Ha!” The adults guffawed while Tony rolled his eyes, Shiva sighed, and Bruce and Clark were clearly not amused.

Tulles wiped the tears from laughing from his eyes, “But seriously, I’ll give you Sunday off. Saturday will just be lessons with me alright?” Bruce nodded begrudgingly. As they all headed to their rooms, Clark looked at his father, “Can I hang out with Bruce some?” Johnathan looked clearly uncomfortable and turned to Tulles as if asking for help. Tulles shrugged.

 

Johnathan looked at Bruce’s expectant face and back at his son, “Don’t give Mr. Tulles trouble. Don’t be hollering and yelling. Mind your manners. No running. We’ll come get you in a couple of hours.” Clark could barely contain his excitement as he ran over to Bruce and Tulles opened the door to let them in. He looked at Johnathan, “I’ll keep an eye on them.” Clark put an arm around Bruce, “Can we go with Tony downstairs? We wanna see the restaurant and fountain?” Tulles looked at the Kents’ who nodded and then at Tony, “Stay with them please.” He nodded and then Martha piped up, “Wait! Take the little girl with you! Go with them Shiva dear!” Horatio looked at her angrily, “You will _not_ tell her what she can and cannot do.” Johnathan stepped in front of Martha, “Don’t you dare talk to my damn family with that tone.” Tulles came in, “Okay okay, break it up. Horatio, calm down, she means well. Shiva dear, you wanna go explore the hotel with the boys?” She had a thoughtful look on her face for a moment. Martha chimed in, “I know she’s probably a killer or what-not, but she’s a child. Let her have some kinda normalcy. If you always treat a kid like their weird, that’s the only thing they’ll believe.” She took Johnathan’s hand and squeezed it. He turned to her and they just looked at each other before he nodded and kissed her on the cheek.

 

 Then she looked at Horatio who suddenly felt the heat rise to his cheeks. “Let the little girl have some fun sir.” He looked down at Shiva and flatly said, “Go.” Johnathan yelled, “Wait! Let these two change first. They’re gonna strike up a few conversations dressed like that.”

 

Tony had a soft baby blue button-up and black slacks on. The long sleeves hid his tattoos and his hair was braided and tucked into a bun. Shiva wore bespoke slacks and a frilly red shirt with frills so large it hid her small form underneath. Her hair was pulled back into a perfect ponytail she did herself. She was grimacing and Tony was messing with the top button of his shirt.

 _What’s the problem?_ Bruce scribbled down. Clark took the notebook and scribbled back _He knew our names/So?/He called Tony ‘Chiron’ and he already knows Horatio/Oh. OH./Yeah…_

Bruce looked at Clark with a look of pure revelation. This did not go unnoticed. Tony leaned forward to try to peer into the book and they quickly closed it. Shiva came moved closer to them in the elevator, “What’s that book for?”

“None of your business,” Bruce answered curtly. The elevator doors opened and she snatched it from his hands and ran. “Hey! You little thief!” Bruce and Clark went barreling after her and Tony yelled a quick “Sorry” to the staff and patrons they shoved past that were waiting for the elevator.

The boys ran after her as she wove her way in and out of the crowd. Clark shouted, “I’ll get her!” And he picked up speed to cut her off. He grabbed her as she reached the front door of the lobby and dragged her outside as she tried to pull away.  
  


“You’re hurting me you shithead!”

“Well stop struggling! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He loosened his grip slightly, as the worry of him actually harming her crossed his mind.

“I just wanna see what’s in the book! You two are planning something!”

Bruce joined them outside and looked at the bellhops and valets who were clearly uncomfortable. Tony joined them and flatly said, “We can’t do this here.” Bruce nodded in agreement, “Let’s head over to the side of the building there.” He pointed at the hedges that created a natural fence on the side of the building leading to the pool. Even Shiva had seen the wisdom of this and calmed down as they all marched there.

 

Once there, Bruce looked around and looked at Clark, “Anyone on the other side of this?”

Clark glanced quickly and scanned the area, “We’re clear.” Tony looked at Clark strangely, “Are you magic?” Bruce shook his head, “That’s not important. Give us back the book.” Shiva frowned, “A thing for a thing. Answer him. Is he magic?” Bruce pouted and played out the scenario in his head. He knew Clark could easily restrain her, but Tony could easily bring them all down if he needed to. He shook his head, “He’s not magic.” Tony immediately started muttering some words and his arms glowed before the air around them shimmered. Shiva looked nervous, “What did you just do?”

Tony rolled up his sleeves, “If he isn’t magic then he’s something else. Now I think we all need to clear the air. I trapped us in this neat little bubble and none of us get out of here until we settle some things. If you lie, you get a nice little zap. The bigger the lie, the bigger the zap.”

Everyones eyes widened. Clark could feel Shiva’s heart racing through her skin. He released her and she rubbed her wrist, where a large dark purple bruise had formed. Bruce looked from her to Clark who looked apologetically at her before muttering, “Sorry. I… don’t know my own strength at times.” Bruce reached for Shiva’s wrist to look at it and she pulled away and sulkily took a step back. He turned to Tony, “This isn’t the same truth spell you used before, is it? At the house?”

“No, I couldn’t make a bubble big enough and I just needed _one_ person to tell the truth. It’s easier to compel in cases like that, especially with kids.” He clapped his hands together, “I made this spell myself! Let’s get started though. What _are_ you?”

Everyone turned to look at Clark. He lowered his head, “I’m… not from earth?” Shiva’s eyes bulged and she took a step towards him, “ _Really?!_ Oh my gosh! Do you have tentacles? Do you eat people? Can you see through walls? Can you fly?” She looked him over intently and walked around him. He shooed her away, and moved over to Bruce, “No to almost all of those. I can see through stuff. I dunno if I can fly. I can jump pretty high though. If I think hard about it, I can fall pretty slowly too.”

“Can you move things with your mind?”

“No.”

“Ugh. Useless.” She rolled her eyes but she was still clearly intrigued. She leaned in and sniffed him. Bruce laughed, “What are you doing?”

“He looks like a human. Smells like one too…” She pointed at her wrist, “You’re strong right? How strong?”

He shrugged, “Just a little bit I think.” The hairs on everyone’s arms and heads stood up for a second as a small bolt of electricity crackled through the air and hit Clark squarely on the neck. His hand shot straight to the area as his face twisted in pain, “Oh shit that was _not_ a nice little zap you liar! That was a big zap!”

“Then it was a big lie,” Tony replied flatly. Clark’s cheeks got red, “Okay, I _know_ for a fact I can lift a harvester. I _suspect_ I can lift something bigger if the situation calls for it. Ya’ happy?” Bruce realized that Clark’s mid-western accent truly shines through when he’s annoyed. Shiva held up the book, “My turn! What’s with the dumb book?” The boys looked at each other. Bruce took a deep breath, “We’re trying to find out about this ‘war’ everyone's talking about. Nothing makes sense.” She scoffed, “Like you don’t know.”

Tony looked at her seriously, “There was no zap. I don’t think they actually know.” Tony came and put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He crouched down to look them in the eyes, “Listen. How much do you know about the R’as?”

“Not… not much. Why?”

“I… We don’t know much about the R’as himself. I’m sure the little one doesn’t either. But we know that something valuable to him has been defiled. We don’t know what. But we know that there is another of whatever they are in Gotham. You are the… prince of this particular kingdom. A type of general. We also have to deal with certain other… forces at play.”

 

Clark perked up, “You mean Savage?!” Shiva grabbed his wrist, “How do you know that name? Who _are_ you? I bet you work for him!” Clark pulled his wrist back, “How could I not know it?! All the recent shit has been about either Bruce or Savage!” He whipped around to face Tony, “Who is this Savage guy?” Tony sighed and shook his head, “Honestly friend, I know a bit about him. That he’s the Great Ones biggest thorn in his side for centuries.”

Bruce replied softly, “I knew it…” Clark shook his head, “I don’t understand. What do you mean centuries?”

Tony smiled, “Wow, you two really know nothing. The R’as and Savage are immortal. Forever at war, bound in combat.”

 

Bruce sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He paced around, “So, we need to figure out what’s under Gotham. And we need to figure out what Savage wants.” Shiva sneered, “You idiot. Savage just wants to kill us all!”  
  


Clark had a thoughtful look on his face, “That doesn’t make sense though,”

“Why?” Tony inquired.

“Well, if they’re both immortal, how do they know the other one can be destroyed? What started this in the first place?” Tony and Shiva looked at each other. Tony had a thoughtful look, “Why does that matter?”

“Because if we find out what started it, we can find out how to end it. What does R’as want?”

“To fix the world!” Shiva said proudly. “Yeah, but how? Specifically, what does he need to do?”

Tony paused before answering, “He wants to take it over. We work to take all that is. The Great One's immortality gives him wisdom and his resources give him power.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Just not enough of it. And clearly, he has weak points. So this ‘defilement’. Savage did it?” Tony shook his head, “I don’t know actually.” Shiva’s lips pursed together and she turned away. The young man laughed, “No doubt you’ve killed a man, but still so bad at lying eh?” They all looked at the young girl who tried to hold a serious face. But a small smile crept onto her face that turned into a full grin, “I know but I’m not telling! I’ve been trusted with it cause I’m the best of the trainees you know!” Clark shook a fist at her, “Don’t be such a little brat, just tell us!”

“NO!” She went to the edge of the shimmer and tried to push her way out. She realized that it wasn’t just a shimmer but a wall. She turned and crossed her arms while glaring at them. Clark looked at Bruce, “She’s awful. Do we have to keep her around? Can’t you tell her to take a long walk off a short pier, oh great prince?” Bruce’s face lit up with a revelation.

“Shiva!” he bellowed, “As the prince of Gotham, I’m making two orders. First, you are to swear loyalty to Gotham and it’s current leader. Second, I demand you tell me anything I wish to know. To deny me is to deny the R’as. He’s practically my grandfather you know!” He stood up straight and narrowed his eyes. He gestured to Tony, “Bind her with a spell or something.” Tony stood up straight and started muttering incoherent words. Shiva grew nervous and began to fidget. Her fidgeting turned into her eyes looking around quickly for a way out to no avail. She stomped her foot, “This isn’t fair! You can’t do this!” Bruce scoffed dramatically, “I have a wizard and a kind-of boyfriend who can see through walls and throw a truck for fun. I can do whatever I want.”

 She took a deep breath and put her hands up, “Fine! Whatever! Tell your wizard not to tell me into anything weird! I swear to serve and all that stupid stuff.” Tony stopped muttering and grinned, “I wasn’t actually casting a spell anyways. So… tell us what you know.” She revealed the information about the death cult. Tony looked serious, “Necromancers are rare. Magic like this takes its toll. This is… worse than I thought.” Clark whispered something in Bruce’s ear and he nodded. Bruce pointed at them, “From now on, as servants to me, you will help us! Don’t tell anyone you’re helping us, but every night you’ll report to me or Clark.” He handed the notebook to Tony, “Can you enchant this to hide what’s inside unless it’s us?” Tony nodded. Bruce looked at Shiva, “You’ll still train with Horatio and tell me what he tells you.” He looked at Clark, “We’ll need your hearing too. First mission, we need Tulles’ notebook.” They all looked at each other. Shiva crossed her arms again and nodded begrudgingly. Tony smiled a little and nodded as well. Clark’s cheeks turned a little red and he nodded. The shimmer dispersed and Bruce grabbed Clark’s hand, “Let’s go back for now. I think I have a plan forming. You guys go ahead. Clark and I need a moment.”

 

As they watched the two walk off, Clark bent down and took Bruce’s face in his hands. He kissed Bruce on the lips and Bruce felt his tongue slip into his mouth. He pulled away surprised, but then stood on tip-toe to kiss him again. Clark held him, standing up straight and lifting Bruce’s feet off the ground. Bruce felt a heat in his stomach and he broke the kiss. He looked into Clark’s eyes and kissed him again. Clark broke this one off first to grin, “Your kind-of boyfriend is really impressed he’s kind-of dating a real prince charming.” They laughed and held hands as they marched back to the front of the hotel.


End file.
